


Festival of the hunt

by SilverWield



Category: Illthdar
Genre: Adventure, F/F, F/M, Fantasy, Fun, Gen, M/M, Multi, Other, Team Spirit, derpy family, friendships, sweet romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2019-05-25
Packaged: 2019-09-26 05:35:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 59,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17135960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverWield/pseuds/SilverWield
Summary: The festival of the hunt isn't an ordinary scavenger hunt.





	1. Bring on the hunt

**Author's Note:**

> Concrit welcome

Inari, leader of the Order of Mana, and the three Order High Elders, Culvers, Uwe and Phanuel, stood on a platform in the courtyard in front of the Acolytes of Las. It was roughly the middle of the year, and a bright and clear day. The gender-fluid's colour-changing eyes scanned the crowd, pleased with the turnout. There were Acolytes from the most recent years, as well as a lot of new recruits. Only those from years who participated in the hunt previously were lining the walls of the courtyard, smirking. “Acolytes,” they said, not raising their voice, which meant those in back strained to hear. “The Festival of the Hunt has returned.”

Those that were acquainted with the event catcalled and whooped, as those that weren't swapped looks of varying emotion. It was the first year of the festival in a while, so no one knew what to expect. Many were deemed non-competitors for their own safety, though this didn't stop some insisting on taking part.

“Teams will be formed as the High Elders call out your names,” Inari continued. “Once that is done, Bracken will give you your key.” They gestured to where the qilin unicorn stood by a large table, covered with stacks of parchment. “Good luck,” they finished in a tone that suggested amusement, as they began to make their exit, their many layered robe rippling with their footsteps. “You will need it.”

 

~*~*~

 

In a corner of the courtyard, waiting for their names to be called were the senior Acolytes: Tundra, a tattooed assassin; Seth, an orange eyed, half-blood who made storms; his wife, Scyanatha, a faery princess with red hair and eyes; Tundra's wife, Nyima, a blue-skinned ice elemental; Raemina, a pale-skinned warrior always in shades of purple and Rhovan, a blue-haired elf who was never seen without his liubul'k – a creature that looked like a stegosaurus mated with a dog.

“What do you think this hunt entails?” Reamina, like everyone else, was filled with anticipation and wariness.

“I asked one of the Elders and he laughed in my face,” Rhovan replied, trying not to sound too worried. He wasn't well acquainted with the group, apart from Raemina, but everyone welcomed him. The only one he knew was the green-haired venin, Lerki, who was standing with the other Fluorite Acolytes. He was wringing his hands, much as he had been doing since learning about the hunt. It wasn't encouraging.

“Yeah,” Seth shook his head. “That's what they all do.” The Egyptian half-blood was around when the last hunt took place, but he couldn't remember anything about it – except the infirmary being stretched to the limit. He hoped Inari arranged something safer.

“They're trying to psyche us out. Ignore them,” Tundra advised, rolling his shoulders to loosen them. His tone held an edge of doubt, so he wasn't as convincing as he'd like. His single, sky-blue eye scanned the crowd, picking out people he wouldn't mind being teamed with. The answering looks he got weren't encouraging. The orange orb in his left eye socket freaked people out, along with the polycarbide covering that went from his cheekbone up over his eyebrow and ending at his hairline.

“If our team succeeds, I shall be satisfied.” Nyima, wearing form-fitting shorts and a crop top in preparation of heavy exercise, had her light-blue eyes trained on the large group of mixed cadets, who all wore expressions of terror.

“They look very scared,” Scyanatha tittered, then stopped as a dark-skinned, half-blood with golden eyes grinned at her and waggled his eyebrows. “Maybe not all of them. You were right when you said that boy is odd,” she said to Nyima.

“Who is odd?” Raemina craned her neck to see, then drew back when the half-blood changed targets and grinned at her instead. “Oh.”

“Oh,” Nyima echoed, hoping she didn't end up with him, or any of his group of friends from training the other day. They were all, not quite useless, but definitely not people she thought would help win a trial. She tied up her dark-blue braids into a ponytail and passed an extra tie to Raemina so she could do the same with her lavender locks.

 

~*~*~

 

Over where the Quartz Acolytes and trainees were waiting, Date glared at anyone who came near, finding the crush of people unbearable. He smoothed down his ruffled, black feathers, which stood on end again “You should not be doing this,” he said to Vyxen, for what felt like the hundredth time. She was vibrating with glee at taking part, which worried him.

“Oh, shut up, I'm still a Quartz,” she said with a giggle. “Besides, Salem's doing it, so why can't I?” She pointed across the courtyard to where her brother was mixed in with the Fluorites. A couple of fae were clinging to his arms. His head was tilted towards the ground in conversation with someone, but she couldn't see who.

“He shouldn't either. You're both going to get killed and how do I explain that to your mother and grandmother?” Date would be begging for forgiveness on his knees for the rest of his life.

“Be honest,” she said, sliding an amused look his way, “you only mentioned mom to make it sound like nookimis doesn't scare the feathers off you!”

“Nothing of the sort,” he replied, turning his head away and looking to assess the competitors.

Vyxen snickered at her joke. Since Date was a tengu, he literally had feathers to scare off, which made it all the more amusing. She reached up and pinched his cheek, making him squawk. “Calm down, grumpy birb.”

“I am calm,” he argued. Quartz Order had several new additions, thanks to Lerki letting every half-blood through the veil, but there appeared to be a few fae as well. “This is stupid,” Date commented, yet again.

“Hey there, Sunshine!” Imogen greeted him with a wry smile, as she came to chat with Vyxen. She flicked her long, ginger plait over her shoulder and used a hand to shield her mismatched, green eyes from the sun. “It's a shame one of his friends isn't here to punch him in the beak,” she said to her white-haired friend.

“I know, right?!” Vyxen enthusiastically replied. “All he's been doing all morning is complaining.”

Date narrowed his slate-coloured eyes, but didn't explain the reason why he was “complaining” was because he was worried. Of all them, he had the best memory of the last festival of the hunt, having taken part. He still had nightmares about entering the goliath's nest and getting caught in its webs. It was bad enough seeing silk-wrapped skeletons, without the addition of rotten bird feathers stuck to some of them. To borrow a phrase from his girlfriend: he'd noped his ass out of there! “You have no idea what you're getting into. This is not like some human scavenger hunt, where teams skip through the woods finding poorly hidden pieces of junk.”

The two women raised their eyebrows at him.

“Ok then,” Imogen said. “Tell us what it's like.”

 

~*~*~

 

“Can you believe the talent here?” Jenshi didn't know where to look first. He'd already checked out the Jasper instructors and been a little sad to see they were wearing battle gear like they expected something big to go down. In fact, most of the Elders were in battle gear, unlike the trainees, who dressed for running about and finding stupid clues for a prize. He figured it must be an Las thing, always being armed and ready.

“What talent?” The red-skinned demon, Cuculaiin tilted his head and nearly speared a nearby Acolyte. “Sorry!” He still wasn't used to the recent growths.

Jenshi's golden eyes were wide with shock; did the demon not know what he was talking about?! “Talent, you know: cute girls.” Although, some of the guys were pretty hot too. He already checked out the tanned guy with the half-shaved head, but with all the women hanging off him, figured he was totally hetero. There was a blue-haired guy bumbling about the place as well somewhere that he thought had an interesting face. Girls were still his main target and there was so many different ones to choose from!

“Oh, cute girls. Yeah. Fae usually are pretty. Most half-bloods too, actually.” Cu stood on tip-toes to try and see over the people in front of him. He was getting antsy waiting for things to start. “Does it seem like it's taking a while to choose the first team?”

Jenshi shot a look over to the platform, him being the taller of the pair. “They're arguing about something.” He shrugged. “Probably who's going first.”

 

~*~*~

 

Over in the Fluorite camp, they were mostly murmuring about how they weren't suitable for this kind of game, with the exception of Salem Allaway and a dwarf named Ghenha, who were looking forward to whatever was thrown at them. Although the half-blood, Native American was confused how he ended up with Fluorite. “I think that test is busted,” he laughed to the little blond, having spotted her trying to get some room, in the form of punching legs. He'd elbowed his way to stand next to her and she launched into a foul-mouthed rant. Salem decided then and there they'd be friends.

“No shit,” she said back. “Put me in Jasper and then fucking Phanuel comes to my room afore I've even fucking unpacked and says, 'You're moving to Fluorite'.” She bared her teeth. “Not even a fucking explanation or by your leave! Fucking elves,” she finished with a sigh, rolling her brown eyes.

“Must you talk like that?” One of two sylphs, Ghenha didn't know which, wrinkled her delicate nose.

“Yes.” She jutted her chin at them. “Don't like it, fuck off.”

The two sylphs insubstantial bodies became solid as they grew angry. A strong wind gusted at ground level, buffeting Ghenha, whose hand went to the axe strapped to her back.

“Ladies, ladies, I know how to settle this.” Salem interrupted before things got out of hand; it was a new role for him since he was usually the one causing trouble. “Why don't we get out the inflatable paddling pool, find a ton of lime-jello and you three can duke it out while I sell tickets?” He wasn't sure how he managed it, but he kept his lips together and stopped his shoulders shaking as the three Illthdarians stopped snarling at each other and stared at him.

“You're so fucking lucky Uwe isn't here to hear that!” Ghenha burst out laughing, braid swinging as she doubled over.

“What's an 'en-flat-able pad-lin pool'?” The sylphs tilted their heads, identical blank looks on their faces.

“Welcome to Las,” Ghenha said, straightening up and rolling her eyes. “Population intelligence: minus five for every fucking species, except dwarves.”

“That isn't very accurate,” Lerki, said. He was standing close to the little group, though he'd only heard this last part, being absorbed in his own thoughts. He had tried to get out of the hunt entirely by saying he was needed to guard the veil entrance, to which Phanuel replied Zercey would be adequate for the job.

“More than adequate,” he said, emphasising each word slowly. “You are the worst gatekeeper in the history of gatekeepers and we do not have a history of gatekeepers because the job is so easy it isn't worth noting.”

So, the apologetic Lerki had no other choice but to take part. His only hope was Zercey didn't find out because she would be furious she missed out on the event, but it was for her own safety.

“IhopeIgetcalledfirst!” the nymph standing next to him said in a rush. “Whatdoyouthhinkwehavetodo?” He turned to look at Lerki.

The others waited to hear his reply, having seen his reaction when last asked about it and been wondering ever since.

“Find things,” he replied, still unable to erase his worried expression. Wind whispered bad omens in his ear since the festival was announced.

This answer was not received well by Ghenha, who growled until Salem nudged her with his foot and pulled a silly face.

“There was an accident in the Alchemy lab the other day, so some of items will be replacements for Phanuel.” Lerki winced as he pictured the smashed bottles and jars of rare ingredients. Normally, finding these things would take months, but by getting the entire Order to hunt for them, that time was greatly reduced.

“Oh,” the rapid speaking nymph, Xyl, replied. “That was Rhovan's fault. His liubul'k escaped.”

A creeping realisation was working it's way up Lerki's spine, around his jewellery and slipping beneath his moss-coloured hair into his ear; he shouldn't have ignored the wind's warning. “When did you hear about the festival?”

Salem laughed like this was an obvious question, then stopped suddenly. “I don't know,” he confessed. “It seemed like everyone was suddenly talking about it.”

Lerki shut his eyes and made a small sound in the back of his throat. “The bees,” he murmured. “I knew there was supposed to be something in that box.”

Salem wondered if this was meant to mean something. He looked about, but everyone seemed to have similar clueless expressions. “Do I have to offer up my first-born to find out what you're talking about, 'cause if I do we're gonna be waiting awhile.”

The two sylphs cooed at the mention of children. Ghenha screwed up her snub nose like she'd smelled something bad and Salem chuckled.

“Lerki?” Xyl patted his shoulder and he jumped. “You look worried. More than usual, I mean.”

“Yes. No. I just remembered I need to talk to Phanuel.” He excused his way through the crowd to reach the platform and get the wood-elf's attention.

Salem heard from his sister that Lerki could be a bit odd, but looking at the others he could see that was odd even for Lerki. “This hunt just gets weirder and weirder.”

 


	2. A Team of Two: Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seth and Vyxen are the first of our heroes to tackle the hunt. Paired with a whiny sylph, they soon find the subject of their clue. That's when things go wrong.

Having finished their “discussion”, as well as Phanuel warning off Lerki with nothing more than a frightening grin, it seemed the three High Elders were ready to proceed.

Culvers's dove a tanned hand into the wooden pot, holding the names of the Jasper participants. “Mohammed Idle,” he read out in a clear voice, then frowned. “Who's that?”

There was a smattering of laughter from the corner as Seth stepped forward. “Me,” the Jasper General said, striding through the crowd to reach the platform.

“I didn't know your name was Mohammed,” Culvers commented.

“Now you do, boss,” Seth mocked, amused.

Culvers shook his head and gestured for Uwe to pick the next name.

Uwe stood behind a stone plinth. Upon it was a crystal bowl, inside of which were his Order Acolyte names. He carefully pinched a piece of paper between his fingers and flicked it open. “Vyxen Allaway,” he said, licking his lips. His rust coloured eyes scanned the crowd for the lovely half-blood.

“I'll ring a bell right in your dang ear!” she threatened enthusiastically. She bounded up to stand next to Seth and offered her fist for him to bump. “Go, team crylasm.”

“We're not calling ourselves that.”

She laughed. “It's so cute you think you have a choice.” She waved at Date and Salem, then ran a finger across her throat. “Going down!”

Date shook his head, consoling that at least with Seth on her team she stood a chance of not dying.

“You can try, lil sis!” Salem bellowed back.

“If you're done psyching yourselves up, you might like to know who the third member of your team is.” Phanuel's voice was disapproving, but his eyes twinkled with amusement. “The last member is...Ira Mistral.”

There was a wail from where the Fluorite Order gathered. “I have to stay with Ari!” a feminine voice cried.

“Ira, I'm sure you can manage just this once,” Phanuel replied, rolling his eyes.

“ _Noooooo!”_ The voice sounded like it came from everywhere.

Culvers had no patience for the weepy sylph. “Ira, get over here! You agreed to take part, so do it! Your team will be uneven and at a disadvantage otherwise.”

“You're far too stern, Hal,” Uwe said, though his eyes were on Vyxen and not his colleague. “Perhaps I could substitute for the girl, if she is so against separating from her twin.”

“You know that bell I mentioned?” Vyxen piped up in a casual tone from her spot close to Seth.

“Yes?” Uwe smiled at her, no idea what she'd say next, which was partly why he found her so attractive.

“I have one with me, and if you even think of coming with our team, I will _force feed it to you.”_

His eye twitched. “Ira, join your team!”

“Nicely done,” Seth whispered, chuckling.

After more whining and wailing, an insubstantial-looking female stepped out of the crowd. Her skin, hair and eyes were all an odd shade of silver, insomuch that it was almost impossible to say what colour they were. Her outline also seemed to waver, only becoming fully solid once she took to the stage and slouched next to the two half-bloods.

“Our first team!” Culvers announced to a mixed reception. “Go to Bracken. Good luck.”

“Yeah, yeah, we know, 'you'll need it',” Vyxen said the line before he could and snickered when she earned a stern look.

 

Moving over to where a silent Bracken waited with a stack of papers. He handed the top one to Seth.

“Ari, you read this, you have the best grasp of Illthdarian,” he said, once they'd moved to a quiet corner where others wouldn't overhear them.

“It's Ira!” the sylph complained, snatching the note. “My sister is Ari.”

Vyxen and Seth shared a look; both getting the feeling they'd been saddled with a turkey.

“I don't understand what this means,” Ira said in a miserable voice.

“You can't read Illthdarian?” Vyxen asked. “We are in so much trouble if we can't even read the clues!”

“No, I can read it, but I don't understand it.” She wafted over to them and beckoned them closer still as she whispered.

 

“ _I am small,_

_My voice is shaken,_

_But I cause the ground to quaken._

_The rivers cede and do run dry,_

_And fear consumes the earth and sky.”_

 

Ira shrugged and looked longingly over to where the other Fluorites were waiting to have their called. “I miss my sister.”

“We haven't even left the courtyard yet,” Seth pointed out.

“Any idea what it means?” Vyxen had none. _Great start._

“It's something that makes a noise,” Ira offered all of a sudden.

“How d'you figure that?” Seth frowned at the paper, reading it again in his stilted Illthdarian.

Vyxen frowned as well. _Didn't Ira just say she didn't understand what it meant?_

“It says it has a voice.” Ira pointed a pale finger at the paper. “It's something small that makes a sound and affects the elements.”

“What about the last line?” Vyxen was still frowning. She didn't trust Ira one bit.

Seth's tone was rueful. “I dunno, but I don't like my chances with it: 'Fear consumes earth and sky'?” He knew the clue didn't mean him specifically, but it was a creepy coincidence he was the storm-bringer and they got this card.

“You think Bracken gave us this one on purpose?” Vyxen looked towards him.

A flustered Bracken was trying to shoo someone away from the table and knocked the stack of papers on the floor.

Vyxen shook her head. “Forget I said anything. He couldn't mastermind a wine-tasting in a wine bar.”

“It's a sycamore tree!” Ira's echoey shout was heard by everyone.

Vyxen tutted, “Well done, Ira. You just gave away the answer!” _And where did you get it from anyway?_

“Only if they get it too,” she replied. “With what Bracken just did everything is mixed up now.”

“She's right,” Seth said, figuring their team had an edge on the first item at least. He noticed Vyxen's mood wasn't as high as it was when they were on stage and he leant towards her. “What's up?”

“Where'd she get the answers from?” Vyxen whispered back.

It slipped his mind that Ira said she didn't know. He looked at the silvery sylph with a thoughtful expression. “I dunno, but she'd be about the same level of cunning as you said Bracken was, so however she got it I don't think it's to cause us trouble.”

“It's on the level, you think?” Most of Vyxen's worry was centred on not losing to her brother and Date.

“We can check it out and maybe get lucky.”

That would have to be good enough. With a firm nod, she hustled the other two out of the courtyard by putting a hand in the centre of each of their backs and pushing. “Come on then, let's go!”

 

~*~*~

 

“I miss my sister.”

Feeling like her silver eyes could roll right out of her head, Vyxen didn't need to look at Seth to know he was mimicking her expression. Since they'd left Las and headed into the woods, searching for a sycamore tree – though Ira hadn't told them why this was the answer to the riddle – the duo put up with listening to her whine non-stop. “I thought sylphs were fun,” she pre-empted, as Ira opened her mouth.

“We _are_ fun,” came the petulant reply. “When we're together with our own kind, we are always laughing!”

“Why d'you sign up for the hunt, anyway?” Seth thought asking questions might take Ira's mind off things. They'd walked for some time and were trusting on the reliable method of dumb luck to find their way. Everyone knew parts of the woods moved as they merged with the Sleepy Forest further to the north, so a tree that wasn't in one place one day, might be there the next.

“Salem said he was going to, so we did as well,” Ira sighed, a misty look in her silver eyes.

“Salem? My brother, Salem?” Vyxen's own eyes were wide. “He's a moron!” she laughed. “You can do way better than him!”

“He saved us!” Ira wouldn't hear anything bad said about him. “We were going to be eaten by aufhocker and he is our hero!”

Vyxen snickered, having heard the real story from Nyima and Imogen. “Yeah, he's a real white knight.”

A trio of Fae rushed past them at that moment and bumped into Seth. “Hey!” He threw his hands up at them. “We need to get a move on,” he said to the women. “Why does the clue lead to a sycamore tree, Ira?” He looked at her and she shrugged.

“I don't know, I overheard someone else say it.”

They stopped dead.

“You mean, you didn't know the answer for sure?!” Vyxen was _mad._ She was so excited to beat everyone she loved into the ground at this game. First she'd had to put up with Date's complaining, then Uwe trying to muscle in on her fun and now this stupid sylph didn't even know the answer to the clue and they were wandering about the woods with no idea what they were doing! “Didn't you think that, oh, I dunno, maybe they were _lying?”_

“No, because I could hear them trying to read the clue; their Illthdarian wasn't very good, but they figured out the answer very quickly and then started muttering that it was too easy and had to be a trick.”

“Where was this person?” Seth frowned. He'd not seen anyone like that near them, and they'd been the first team called, so who else could have gotten one of the clue notes? Not to mention they all got knocked to the floor soon after, so anything read out had less chance of relating to theirs.

“They were next to Bracken,” Ira shrugged again.

“Next to––” Vyxen's brows went up, her anger dissolving. _He was all the way across the courtyard!_ “You heard someone talking to themselves that far away?”

“Of course.” Ira seemed confused. “We are of the air.”

“Of course,” Vyxen echoed faintly. “Ok,” she said, mostly to herself, “so the answer could be right! Let's find this tree and go from there.” The trio started forward again. “No wonder the Elders were laughing at us for doing this; it's cruel and unusual punishment!”

 

~*~*~

 

A little further into the woods and the three Acolytes who passed them earlier, made a reappearance.

“What happened to you!” Vyxen asked, as she took in the dirty and ripped clothes. Two were bracketing the third, who was bleeding from a wound to the head as he limped slowly, a dazed look on his face.

“Don't do it,” the one on the right said, glancing back over her shoulder as they headed in the opposite direction. “It's not worth it.”

“What. The. Hell?” She had the fleeting thought maybe Date was right, then flapped her hand to shoo it away from her brain. _No way I'm letting him win!_ His explanation about the hunt to her and Imogen was doom-laden, which she rolled her eyes through because why would anyone send them on a dangerous mission and disguise it as a _game?_ Nope. She would win no matter what! He'd be impossible to live with forever, otherwise. And Salem? _Forget it!_ He'd be even worse! “What do you think happened to them?” She looked up at Seth, who was staring at the departing team.

“Not prepared?” He shrugged. “We'll find out when we get there.”

They walked on, pushing aside the thickening foliage until they burst into the open again, like they'd walked through a door into another room.

 

“What the fuck is that?!” Seth's amber eyes were wide, and he shook his head.

Vyxen was less impressed. “Only in Illthdar would a tree grow upside down.”

The area around the tree was barren, grass brown and withered. Trees and plants at the edge of the clearing leaned away, afraid to grow near in case of catching something.

Vyxen turned to Ira to get her opinion, but she'd disappeared. “Er, we're down a team member,” she poked Seth's muscly bicep with her finger.

“What? Oh, that's just fucking perfect!” He looked around, but couldn't spot her. “When'd we lose her?”

“I think it was when that other group passed. She was definitely with us before that, I remember her whining.” Vyxen's smile was rueful. She was glad she wouldn't have to put up with Ira's complaining, but would their team be worse off without a Fluorite? _There must_ ' _ve been a reason_ _the Orders were split up this way._

“We found the tree,” Seth said, gesturing, “but, I don't think I'm happy we did. That thing is _creepy.”_

The trunk was a hundred feet, the circumference large enough that ten people would have to stand with their arms outstretched for the first and last to touch fingertips. The roots spread outwards and down, draping all around it and coming close to where the two were standing. If it was a willow, the effect would have been pretty, but the gnarled roots were misshapen, adding to its grotesque appearance. Nearer to the ground a thick bush of branches and dying leaves grew, covered with large, rough-edged leaves. It was these that identified it as a sycamore.

Vyxen tilted her head to the side until she felt her balance going, then stopped. “What do we do with it?” She straightened up and then tilted her head the other way, confused.

“I dunno. Climb it?” It was good a suggestion as any.

With mutual shrugs, they moved forward, avoiding the low-hanging roots that seemed to want to brain them both. They lifted their legs high as they climbed over the leafy branches.

“Guess that's how the other team got taken out,” Vyxen said, as she avoided being knocked out on a root. “I could've sworn I was under this.”

“This explains why the last time so many people ended up in the infirmary,” Seth puffed.

“What?” Vyxen stopped dead, which had the bonus of saving her leg from being stabbed with a sharp-tipped root that darted out.

“Yeah, the last Flourite High Elder used it as a cover to make the Acolytes bring him rare relics and things. It's why he got turfed out and Phanuel took over.” Having made it as close to the trunk as they could, Seth reached for a root branch with one hand and offered the other to Vyxen, lifting her up so she could grab it.

“Does Inari know this?” She hefted herself up and swung her leg over the branch, then offered her hand to Seth, who smiled wryly and was up next to her before she could blink. She then grabbed the belts he wore across his chest, strapping his axe to his back, and pulled him forward when he tipped sideways.

“Thanks.” He glared at the branch, orange eyes narrowing with suspicion. “Did this thing move?”

“Maybe you have as much balance as a baby deer,” she teased.

He snorted and got to his feet, reaching up for the next branch which seemed to retreat from his outstretched fingers. He hopped and got a grip on it.

They continued in this way until they reached the halfway point, both sweating profusely. As Seth went to grab the next root, the bark slithered through his fingers and left an oily residue behind, which he wiped off on the leg of his trousers. “What was that clue again?”

“Something that makes a noise,” Vyxen said, choosing to use Ira's translation. “Trees aren't noisy. What if it's just that annoying sylph barking up the wrong tree,” she quipped, laughing, as she spotted a set of branches set out like stairs and climbed up them, passing Seth.

When he tried to follow, they fell apart. “What the –” He looked around. “I'm stuck. You didn't bring a rope or anything, did you?”

“Only my bow and arrows.”

“Great.” He looked about to climb down and then noticed the branches closed in beneath them, trapping him completely. “Vyxen,” he said, trying to keep his voice flat and even so as not to worry her. “The tree is alive.”

She laughed at that. “Of course it is, it's a _tree.”_

“No, I mean, it's _alive.”_

“You mean like _Frankenstein_ alive?” She was looking about now, scanning the roots and seeing movement in the corner of her eye whenever she looked away.

“ _Frankenstein_ was the monster, but yeah, exactly like that.”

“Is now the time to be correcting my movie trivia?” she reached for her bow and came up empty. “Dammit!” She looked around and saw it had got caught on a branch several feet below.

 

 _Thwack._ An arrow with a rope attached shot overhead and embedded itself in one of the topmost roots. The tree vibrated and they clung on for dear life, but it had the bonus of bringing the rope to them.

“Who did that?” Vyxen tried to see, but the roots were blocking her view.

“You're welcome!” came a familiar voice.

“Zercey?” Both she and Seth yelled together.

The shifting roots made enough space at that moment for Vyxen to spot her green-haired friend down on the ground, hopping over a leafy branch. “What are you doing here?”

“Saving your butts!” she laughed back.

“Gotta give her that,” Seth muttered, taking hold of the rope and climbing. His weight held it taut, making it easier for Vyxen to grab and scramble up in front of him.

“I hated this in phys ed, I hated it in training and I hate it now,” Vyxen groaned, wiping her sweaty forehead against her forearm. She put hand over hand and inched her way up, dragging her feet behind and pinching the rope between them, then repeating the process all over again. “I changed my mind, I don't wanna do this stupid hunt.”

Seth chuckled breathlessly. “You can quit when we reach the top.”

 

They reached a gap in the top of the roots and found themselves in a hollowed out space with a platform, Seth noticed the rope being tugged from below.

“You ok down there?” he yelled to Zercey.

“Pull me up!”

His jaw dropped. “Are you fucking kidding me?!” His arms were aching.

“Yes. Idiot.” Her amusement was clear.

Vyxen's shoulders shook as she laughed, which made her stomach hurt, but she couldn't stop. She rolled over and bit back a groan as she crawled to the spot where Seth was. “Come on,” she said, with a weak shove. “If we do it together, we can help her up here quicker.”

Seth half-growled and moved to look over the edge of the roots, which ran around the edge of the flat area they were sitting in. “She's not too far anyway,” he said over his shoulder.

They each wrapped a section of rope around their arms and heaved, feeling Zercey jerking on the other end as she clambered up.

“It's like a tug-o-war, only less fun,” Vyxen panted, feeling her muscles burning all over again.

“Don't let her win,” Seth puffed. “You do, she dies.”

“You're so much more fun off duty,” she huffed, as this stark bit of info renewed her efforts. She could also feel it becoming easier to pull as Zercey got closer.

 

The top of her mossy-coloured hair appeared a few minutes later and Seth let go of the rope with one hand, so he could grab hold of her waving arm.

“Thanks! I wasn't expecting you to actually do it,” Zercey said when she caught her breath. “I hate rope climbing.” She looked over the edge and pulled a face. “It would have been dark before I got up here,” she exaggerated.

“Why are you up here?” Although she was grateful for Zercey showing up, Vyxen was curious how she got there.

“I was reading the clues,” she replied, rolling her shoulders and rubbing her hands together to ease the ache in them, “when I saw Lerki coming towards me. I didn't want him to see me, and Bracken was getting annoyed I was reading out the answers,” she giggled, “and then I saw you guys and thought you wouldn't mind me joining you.” She finished her story and then looked around. “Where's the other person who was with you?”

“Disappeared into the wind.” Vyxen waved her fingers, not knowing how accurate this statement was. “Wanna join team crylasm?”

“We're not calling ourselves that,” Seth said again.

Both women laughed. “So naïve,” Zercey said, wanting to ruffle his short, orange hair but couldn't reach.

Seth sighed, knowing when he was beat. “Let's just figure out what we're supposed to be doing here.”

“Looking for a musical instrument,” Zercey said. When the other two looked at her she shrugged. “I thought the answer was obvious, so I may be wrong, but the rhyme refers to a rattle used by Isis to chase away Set.” Her amethyst eyes went to Seth, and she frowned. “You should know this, it's your cultural history.”

Seth mirrored her expression. “I've not been there in years, and riddles in rhymes about obscure items used by a mythological Goddess were never my strong suit.”

Vyxen snorted, her eyes crinkling with amusement. “We know what we're looking for now, so let's just start searching.” She scanned the area and her eyebrows went up when she turned around. “How did we miss that?”

In the centre of the roots, where the trunk descended, stood a well. The sides were wood, curling up and around in a circle. Apart from that difference, it looked the same as any stone well. It even had a little roof with a vine and a wooden bucket.

“Huh.” It took a lot to surprise Vyxen nowadays. A well growing inside an upside-down tree barely registered on her weirdness scale. Still, it made her peeved not to have spotted it sooner.

“Think it's in the bucket?” Zercey leaned forward, only to draw back when she saw movement inside the well. _“Something's_ in there.” She felt her heart speed up as adrenalin flooded her system. A fight of flight response. _Not good._ She swallowed and edged back.

Seth drew his axe, just in case.

A faint rattle echoed as the bucket swayed in the breeze.

Vyxen's expression twisted. “Why couldn't this be skipping through the woods finding pointless crap?” she echoed Date's earlier, scathing description of human scavenger hunts. All she had on her was her dad's hunting knife, but it was better than nothing. She drew and brandished it threateningly. “Come on out, ugly!” She knew whatever it was would be ugly; it was always ugly.

The rattling reverberated throughout the tree and beneath their feet.

“'I cause the ground to quaken',” Zercey recited the line in the riddle. She felt a chill run through her as she realised her mistake. “Illthdar.”

“What's up?” Vyxen had her eyes trained on the well and she could see something shifting inside. Whatever it was sounded big.

“I got the riddle wrong,” came the rapid response. “I thought it was talking about the Egyptian Isis, not the Illthdarian one.”

“There's an Illthdarian Isis?” Seth shouldn't be surprised, but he was. It was no different to how the people in Las thought he was related to Set.

Zercey gestured to the tree. “Isis: represented by a sycamore tree. Why? Because they grew near necropolis and she was married to Osiris, God of the underworld.”

Vyxen made a noise. Putting it like that, it sounded weak. But, a sentient sycamore tree that was...what? Acting as a prison for something dangerous? She'd buy that.

The rattle grew louder, drowning out Zercey's next sentence.

The well exploded. Shards of wood rained in all directions. The trio dove for cover, as Seth raised his axe as a make-shift shield, though it didn't stop some from finding their mark. “Ah fuck!” Splinters peppered his bare arms. Zercey and Vyxen had leather armour on, so avoided the worst of the splinters. A few darts sliced them, but none stuck.

“You ok?” Vyxen tried to help Seth, as he muttered curses and dug out the biggest splinters.

The rattle cut through his reply. A horrible hissing accompanied it. The tree shivered under them. Like something was climbing up it. Or _out_ of it.

“A snake,” Seth growled. “I s'pose it's better than a spider.” He glared up at the albino reptile squinting in the light. “I think it's blind.”

The snake darted its tongue, tasting the air. The bulk of its body was still inside the trunk, the rattle on the end echoing throughout the tree and causing the ground below to shake.

“Seth, you got any storms you can cook up to kill this thing!?” Zercey had to yell over the rattle. The snake turned in her direction.

Seth looked up and swore. “'Fear consumes the earth and sky'.” He pointed to where clouds overhead avoided the clearing, and they'd already seen the ground below was dead when they arrived. “I'm guessing it's a no storm zone.”

“Oh, this is just damn well awesome!” Vyxen felt like stamping her feet.

They moved to flank the snake, training kicking in.

“Why the _hell_ is this part of a scavenger hunt!”

“We can all agree to murder Phanuel when we get out of this mess,” Seth said, signalling with his hands what he wanted the other two to do.

The snake coiled its way out of the well, as the roots of the tree closed in above, caging all four inside. The limbs groaned and creaked, several branches snapping and falling to the ground with a deafening thud.

“ _If_ we get out of this mess,” Seth amended.

 

 


	3. The Valley of Flowers: Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raemina, Imogen and Lerki find themselves in the inhospitable land of Mu. Somehow the arid desert holds the answer to their hunt clue: a flower. But, the desert also holds dangers and a shocking surprise.

 

Imogen was standing next to Date, waiting for her name to be called as more teams were formed. She sent a glance towards him and shook her head at the expression on his face. “You'll worry yourself bald.”

“Hmph,” he replied, slate eyes on Vyxen as she gleefully shoved her teammates out of the courtyard. “I suppose I should be more concerned for my own chances,” he sniffed, trying not to recall the spider's nest.

“I hope you brought bug repellent this time.” She smiled, adding as he shot her a dirty look, “I'm just making sure you're prepared.”

“It would be incredibly bad luck for me to get the same task twice. Besides,” he looked over to where Uwe was diving his hand into the bowl, “that particular hunt wouldn't be on the list again.”

Imogen shrugged, swinging her ginger plait from one shoulder to the other, and followed his gaze to the platform. Raemina was up there waiting for her teammates to be assigned. “Oh, I hope I'm with Raemina. She was amazing on our last mission together.”

“Imogen O'Day,” Uwe's voice rang out, an undercurrent of longing in his tone.

“Looks like you get your wish. Happy hunting,” Date called, as she made her way to the platform.

“I believe we shall have a strong team,” Raemina said as a greeting. “We worked very well together previously.”

“Exactly my thoughts,” Imogen nodded, edging away from Uwe, who was starting to get annoyed with so many of his Order Acolytes acting like he had the plague.

Phanuel lifted out a piece of paper and opened it up. His snickering wasn't encouraging. “Lerki of Gold Birch.”

A panicked squeak was heard from the Fluorite camp. A few moments later a green haired man made an appearance, edging his way to the platform, where Phanuel waited with an evil grin.

“Quick march, Lerki!”

Lerki plodded towards the platform, willing his feet to go as slow as possible. Perhaps even wishing he could take root right there in the courtyard. _Surely Phanuel couldn't argue with that?_ _Then again,_ he reconsidered, looking at the elf, whose eyes were brimming with sadistic joy, _he would likely make a potion to force me to uproot myself._ He sighed, amethyst eyes skittering about, not wanting to meet Phanuel's stare. They collided with a set similar in hue to his own, and he focused on that as both comfort and anchor, trying to fool himself that it was a fellow venin on his team. Raemina's lilac eyes widened, filling with surprise, and he recalled most people didn't like being stared at in an intense way. He glanced at the person next to her and found the nymph, Imogen. A small smile tugged at his lips; the luck from his tree had come through once again.

 

“Guess there's no order to this thing,” Imogen said, eyeing the mess of papers on Bracken's table. She took one at random and the trio walked through the archway behind the unicorn's desk and into one of the smaller garden areas. “Who wants it?” She waved it at Raemina and Lerki. “I don't even have to look to know I won't understand.”

“I cannot read Illthdarian very well, either,” Raemina said.

Which left Lerki. _Oh dear._ His brow creased, but he held his hand out anyway. He then scanned the paper several times, trying to decipher the context from different angles, even turning it upside-down at one point. In the end he shrugged and held it up for the others to see.

“Is this a joke?” Imogen frowned; it made no sense.

“Is that all that is on the paper?” Raemina took it and turned it over, but it was otherwise blank. “A flower?”

To be specific: a small, six petalled bloom with a long trumpet that fanned outwards like a lion's mane. The sketch was carefully done. Whoever was stuck with the task of drawing and copying the bloom was a dedicated artist to be certain.

“The hunt is supposed to be difficult,” Lerki shrugged.

“Yeah, Date explained it, kind of.” Imogen still couldn't quite see how sending Acolytes out into dangerous situations qualified as part of a scavenger hunt. “But, how is anyone supposed to know what they're looking for from a clue like that?”

“Fluorite members should know,” Lerki replied. “Some clues might need an Jasper's blade. Some might need a Quartz's cunning.”

The two women could see the logic in this. “Ok then,” Imogen said, pointing to the note in Lerki's hand. “What about this?”

“It looks similar to the daffodils that grow in a glade not far from here,” Raemina offered, having been there once when she was forced to chase down Rhovan after his animal form took over. She expected to find herself in a fight with a vicious wolf, but surprisingly, the unwilling shapeshifter was run to ground rolling about in the field and playing with the blooms like a pup.

Lerki didn't know what the flower's name was in their common language, but he knew what it was in Clek and offered this up. _“Incenit,”_ he said, and tried to think of how to describe it. “Small innocence. When the trumpet plays, life renewed spills forth.”

Raemina tilted her head, lilac eyes focused on the picture she still held. “It restores those suffering from _mana waste?”_ she concluded in an uncertain voice, not sure that was what Lerki meant.

“It would've been more useful a few years ago,” Imogen added. “If Phanuel knew this existed, then why wasn't he sending people out when we badly needed it?”

Lerki shrugged; Phanuel might have offered him the position of apprentice, but since he became a gatekeeper he was more focused on aggravating him than sharing confidences. If Lerki stopped to think about it he might have considered Phanuel felt slighted and was punishing him. “There might not have been Acolytes to spare, or the bloom was not ready to harvest.”

“How will we find it? There are no further instructions.” Raemina resisted the pointless action of turning the paper over once more to look for information that wasn't there.

“We shall walk and the Earth shall guide us.” _I hope._ He didn't add this last part, knowing that the elements weren't always so helpful as he made them out to be.

“Or maybe we could grab one of the other teams and see what they know?” Imogen replied, a sly smile teasing the edge of her lips.

“Would that not be cheating?” Raemina queried.

“Cheating would be kidnapping Phanuel and forcing him to show us where the plant is...which is a thought.” Imogen angled her body to the side and peered through the archway to where she could just see catch a glimpse of his dyed blue hair. He was laughing with Culvers about something, not a care in the world. “I bet I could get him, even with everybody there watching.”

“No, no!” Lerki waved his hands and shook his head. “I can find it!” He'd just have to look like he knew what he was doing until they got far enough away from Las that she wasn't tempted to snatch Phanuel.

“Are you sure?” Imogen scrutinized him carefully, her mismatched green eyes narrowing. In the end she shrugged and gestured for him to lead, challenging, “If you know the way.”

 

~*~*~

 

“Why do you think Phanuel needs this anyway?” Imogen quickly grew bored with the silence and sought to fill it with some chatter.

“It might not be a request of his, personally,” Lerki replied in an absent voice. He had half an ear on the conversation and half on what the Wind was telling him, which hadn't been good for the past few weeks, so he wasn't expecting it to impart any fresh, positive information.

“I was led to believe that Phanuel wished to replenish his stock of potions after Loui got into the alchemy lab,” Raemina said. Out of the trio she knew the least about the hunt in general, not having been present at any of the other conversations, and only being given third-hand information from Rhovan when the subject was brought up.

“That would be part of it, yes. Creatures can be refined into ingredients, so many of the hunts will be hunting.”

“What about the rest?” Imogen heard this part from Date, so wasn't surprised to have it confirmed. She also thought Lerki summed it up better. It was less: _you will meet your doom;_ for starters.

Lerki didn't answer, his entire attention now taken up with something Wind whispered in his ear.

“Lerki?” Imogen swapped glances with Raemina, who shrugged. “I think that's our lot,” she said with a wry smile. “At least he didn't fall asleep as well.”

Raemina frowned, not understanding the reference.

Lerki changed direction and headed towards the cliffs, and leaving the other two with no choice but to follow him. When he reached a large, open field and climbed over the fence, he literally disappeared.

“What?”

“Where did he go?”

The two women spoke in unison and drew back as Lerki's head reappeared. “I found the portal,” he said, feeling very pleased with himself. Though, Wind found the portal and told him where it was.

“I'm sorry, did I miss a page of instructions somewhere?” Imogen frowned. “Why is there a portal in this field and how did you know it was here?”

“Oh,” Lerki was apologetic. “It's part of the hunt. Didn't anyone tell you?” His head disappeared again, leaving Imogen and Raemina to stare at the empty spare.

“Yeah, of course they did. I'm just acting surprised for the fun of it,” Imogen muttered, climbing over the fence and landing in a desert. “What?”

“Oh my,” Raemina murmured, as she appeared beside them. “We certainly have travelled. I did not think there were any deserts in Las.”

“There aren't,” Lerki said in a slightly miserable tone, as he put a hand up to shade his eyes. “This is Mu, an island to the far south. The elements are out of balance.”

“If the elements are out of balance,” Raemina began, lilac eyes studying the barren landscape intently, “how can anything grow here?”

“Why do I feel like our chances of winning just got smaller?” Imogen commented. “Looks like we're not the first act in the spec either,” she added, pointing to a bunch of footprints leading off in the same direction.

“Other teams have arrived first,” Raemina frowned. Their group was called early in the list, but not early enough it seemed. “There are no footprints returning this way,” she said, glancing around to confirm this fact. “We may still have time to find the flower before the others do.”

“Lerki? We should follow the other prints, right?” Imogen, only asked because he was so quiet.

“No, cousin,” he murmured in a distracted voice. “We should go north.”

She was muddled by this and said so.

“Mu would offer you dreams and give you nightmares. We shouldn't trust anything we see.”

“Oh, this is gonna be gaff, I can tell.” Imogen shook her head, and privately promised she'd get back at Uwe for tricking her into signing up for the hunt.

 

“Hey, Raemina, why did you decide to do this?” Imogen, once again, initiated conversation, mostly to take her mind off the heat.

The trio were walking for some time and trying to be sparing with their water, but if they didn't find the flower soon they would have to turn back and admit defeat. Which kind of sucked, but Imogen couldn't really argue with it; if the choice was being dead in a desert or being alive and losing the hunt then she'd pick alive every time, and if anyone teased her for giving up she'd show them why it was such a bad idea!

“Rhovan,” came the hesitant answer from her, as the faintest of blushes stained her pale cheeks, though it could have been the heat. “He was so excited to search for exotic species and plants in Las and I did not believe he understood the full dangers he might be putting himself in.” She smiled ruefully. “Of course, I was not aware at the time that we could not choose our own teammates. I hope whoever he is with can look after him, and does not upset him,” she added.

“What happens if they upset him?” Imogen had picked up on this last part as being particularly important.

“He will turn,” Lerki answered for her. “Rhovan is a shape-shifter and fights the spirit inside him.” He felt a sadness for his friend and the struggles he faced. He couldn't relate because he was never at odds with himself, not even when parted from Zercey, and had to choose to stay in Las or try to find her. The answers always came to him if he was patient and listened long enough.

“And this is bad?” Imogen figured it was bad, but talking was better than staring at sand and more sand. Even a monster attack would be better than the endless nothing.

“This is bad,” Raemina confirmed, but she wasn't replying to Imogen's question. “This is very bad.” She tightened her grip on her spear and edged in front of the others.

“Oh dear,” Lerki murmured, looking about for something to use as a weapon. There was nothing. Even if he scattered some seeds and encouraged them grow there was no moisture in the earth. They would be weak and die before they ever became useful. He had his staff, yes, but that was made of wood, and in his experience, wood vs sharp teeth was no contest.

Imogen drew her daggers and tested her footing; the sand shifted and she knew she'd be hampered by the terrain.

“Linuad will be dangerous to you both,” Raemina said, taking a further step forward, lilac eyes fixated on a moving point in the distance, that was growing at a rapid pace as it drew closer. “Please allow me to deal with this.” The wolf listened to her in the past, but one could never be too cautious. She put herself several feet in front of her teammates and held her spear at the ready, though she hoped she'd have no cause to use it. The large, brown wolf was shaking his head from side to side, as though bothered by something, and she wondered who upset Rhovan so much that Linuad felt the need to take over. His pelt glittered in the light from the sun and he kept toppling over, as though a fierce battle waged within him. “Something is wrong,” Raemina murmured, narrowing her eyes on the approaching wolf. It was more than just Rhovan fighting for control. It was as if neither he, nor Linuad, were acting as they should. She put up a hand to her brow, shading her eyes, and letting her see more clearly. The glimmering sand made her wince and then she drew still. “Of course,” she said, feeling foolish for not realising it sooner. “It is an illusion.” Now that she was paying attention to what was wrong with the scene she could sense a lingering magic in the air, similar to hers. “It is not Rhovan,” she called back to the others.

“Raemina,” Lerki began, but was distracted by something to his left uncovered as the wind blew across the desert. It was person shaped, laying face-down, green tresses brushed with yellow grains of sand. “Zercey!” He broke formation to slide his way to her.

“Lerki, wait!” Imogen looked first to Raemina and then to him, unsure who she should assist. “Are you sure that's an illusion?”

“Yes, certain.” So certain, in fact, that she lowered her spear and turned her back on the poor imitation. “Lerki said Mu offered dreams and gave nightmares.” She shouldn't have forgotten the words. “Where did he go?”

Imogen pointed to where Lerki was just about to reach the prone woman.

“Another illusion,” Raemina sniffed, unimpressed.

The two hurried over to where Lerki was on his knees scooping up fistfuls of sand and shaking his head. “She was right here!”

“Lerki.” Imogen took hold of him and shook. “This is Mu, remember? You said this would happen.”

He grew still. “I...this didn't happen to me when I came before.” He didn't have any fears then, but it seemed he'd acquired one in the meantime. “That was horrible,” he said quietly.

Imogen opened her mouth to console the confused man when she was floored by something large, brown and heavy. Her heart pounded rapidly in her ears, speeding up as adrenalin flooded her system. Snapping teeth went for her face. Hot, musky breath made her gag. She yelled and dug her hands into the wolf's fur to try and hold him back. “You said it wasn't real!”

Raemina was taken off guard, and it took her a moment to stir into action. When she did she shouted at the wolf to get his attention. “Linuad!”

He paused, which allowed Imogen to get a better grip. She was still pinned and unable to do much to defend herself, but she was at less risk of losing her nose to the wolf's jaws. “Get it off me!”

Lerki got to his feet and scrabbled about in his satchel for anything that could be of use. His fingers closed around something mostly dried out, but very familiar and he pulled it out triumphantly. “I have wolfsbane!” He probably shouldn't have shouted this because the wolf immediately stopped his attack on Imogen and stared at him; angry eyes blank and lacking any recognition.

“Linuad!” Raemina tried again, having seen it meant something to the wolf. She was utterly confused. Once more the wolf paused, but then ignored her in favour of going after Lerki.

He backed away slowly. He had no arrows to administer the poison, or even a method to mix it up. The only way to get it into the shape-shifter would be the direct route: the wolf would have to eat it.

“Raemina.” He edged towards her, sensing how close she was without taking his eyes off Linuad to look. His hand shook, as he reached out to pass her the wolfsbane, hoping the wolf wouldn't take it on himself to bite off the outstretched limb. It would have got the plant into him, but Lerki quite liked his hand and didn't want to part with another one. “You have to get him to eat it. There's no other way to stop him.”

“You want to poison him?” Raemina took the plant, but her outrage was clear in her voice. “There must be another way. I am sure I can reason with him, given time.”

Imogen wanted to argue with that, having felt the rage directed at her; the wolf's hot breath stained her cheek, and she still felt dirty. She worked with animals her entire life, some far more dangerous than a simple wolf, but Rhovan – or Linuad – scared her. She was on her feet and keeping well back, daggers drawn, ready to defend herself if he came at her again.

“I will not kill him, Lerki. There must be another solution.” Raemina was adamant.

“The bane is almost dead,” he pointed out, not even knowing how long it stayed buried in his bag for. “It should be just enough to incapacitate him, not kill.” He was hoping it was a low enough dose. “Besides, Rhovan is a shapeshifter, not a pure-blood wolf, so it shouldn't have as great an effect.” Again, more guesswork. _One of these days I should study how things affect species who aren't venin._

Raemina's fingers closed around the wilted plant. Should she risk hurting Rhovan for the sake of her saving her friends? Rhovan was also dear to her, and Linuad couldn't be blamed for acting in his nature.

The wolf took the decision out of her hands by charging at Lerki. Raemina gave a shout at the same time as she dove sideways and body slammed into him, knocking him aside. The wolf crashed into her, jaws snapping, claws scratching and leaving deep welts in her skin. She thrust her hand into the animal's mouth and bit back a scream as he clamped down on her fist.

“Raemina!” Imogen and Lerki rushed to her side and tried dragging the wolf off her.

“I can't...my hand...” Her fingers spasmed, releasing the plant into Linuad's mouth. The wolf shook her like a rag doll, teeth breaking her skin, blood flooding into its mouth and washing the plant down into his belly. He let go suddenly and Raemina scooted back, grabbing her spear with her uninjured hand and pointing it menacingly. Imogen and Lerki let go at the same time and backed away, bracketing her.

“How long till that stuff works?” Imogen kept her eyes trained on the wolf, who appeared to be deciding who to try and eat next.

“A fresh wolfsbane, the effect is almost instant, but that?” Lerki shook his head, strands of green hair falling into his amethyst eyes.

“This is turning out to be the best day ever,” Imogen replied. She thought she spotted the animal stagger slightly and stared at it intently. “It's going––” the wolf fell over with a whimper “––down,” she finished, sighing with relief. “That was fun. What should we do next? Hurl ourselves off a cliff without safety lines?”

“I think we should tend to Raemina's injury,” Lerki answered simply.

“Oh, right,” Imogen winced.

Raemina was cradling her hand, spear on the ground beside her. Blood dripped through her fingers, staining the sand bright red. “I do not understand,” she murmured, shaking her head. “I was certain it was an illusion.”

“Everyone makes mistakes,” Imogen said, coming to sit beside her and clamping her fingers around Raemina's wrist to help stem the blood loss, as Lerki once again delved in his satchel for something useful, emerging with bandages and ointments.

“It should not have been a mistake,” she argued. “I could sense the illusion, yet the proof of reality is there.” She nodded to where the wolf was slowly shifting back into the form of a man, still unconscious. “We should tend to Rhovan.” She made to get up and found herself forced back down by both Imogen and Lerki's hands on her shoulders.

“You first,” she said. “He's out cold for now, and when he wakes up I bet he'll be feeling pretty bad about what happened.”

“Yes,” Lerki agreed. “Rhovan will be feeling it in both body and spirit. His guilt would be lessened knowing you've been tended to.”

Raemina subsided with a sigh. “Very well.”

 

Rhovan woke with the oddest taste in his mouth. His head felt like it was stuffed with cotton wool and every single one of his muscles, without exception, hurt. _What was I doing?_ He rolled over and was confronted by the harsh, blinding light of the sun, and the fact that he now had sand working its way under his clothes. “That's very uncomfortable,” he muttered, lurching upright and falling straight back to his knees again. “I feel...very bad.”

“That'll be the wolfsbane,” a voice said cheerily.

He brushed strands of blue hair from his aqua eyes and squinted at the source and made a noise of surprise. “Raemina?”

She was sitting with Imogen, who was the one who spoke, and Lerki, who was busy tying off a bandage about Raemina's hand.

“You're hurt! What happened?”

“You did,” Imogen spoke again. “Don't tell me you have no memory of it?”

He shook his head. “No, none.” He blinked several times, as if Imogen's last sentence was just processed. _“I_ did this?”

“You attacked us, you stupid jerk!” Imogen surged to her feet and stormed over to him, poking him in the chest with her finger. “You showed up all wolfed out and tried to kill us! If Raemina hadn't shoved a handful of wolfsbane down your throat you'd still be trying to!”

Rhovan didn't know what to say. He looked at Raemina, whose steady gaze told him the other woman wasn't exaggerating.

“Where is your team?” Raemina asked, cautiously flexing her fingers and wincing as Lerki finished administering to her.

“My team?” Rhovan had no idea what she was talking about. “I don't know.”

“Who's in your team?” Imogen added.

“...I don't know.”

“What's your name?” Lerki's question caused both women to look at him curiously.

Rhovan opened his mouth to reply and came up empty. “I don't know?”

 


	4. Transcendence: Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tundra is teamed with his friend's brother, Salem. He also winds up stuck with a flirtatious pixie, Umi Mal, who refuses to take fidelity as a reason for rejection. Their hunt is a cocktail of ingredients, the first: ice elemental blood.

As Acolytes' names were called, the pixie, Umi Mal, was glaring at Uwe. He'd implied sleeping with him would secure a transfer into Quartz guard, but it turned out the test Bracken gave the new recruits was outdated and many of them had ended up in the wrong Order anyway – her included. She was supposed to be a Quartz all along! She was furious Uwe tricked her. More so for letting him have her for dinner. She growled under her breath, earning a few curious glances, which she returned with glares.

“Imogen O'Day.” Uwe's smooth as silk voice reached her pointed ears, as his rust-coloured eyes ate up the woman who walked with confidence towards him. He was already moving onto his next victim. _Aufhocker! He'll pay for treating me like that!_

The last of the team was called and she tuned out the next several names because they weren't hers and she didn't care who her competitors were.

 

“Jingyi.”

This name meant nothing to Umi, but when Tundra stepped onto the platform, she felt a whirlwind of confusion. She thought she knew everything about her prey, but hadn't known he was married or that he went by an alias. She was too soft on her wisps.

Uwe completely ignored the man standing in front of Culvers, muscled arms folded, legs apart in a relaxed stance. He dipped his hand into the crystal bowl once more and withdrew a folded slip of paper. “Umi Mal.” The name was said with a careful lack of interest as if he didn't know exactly who she was.

 _As if we haven't shared a bed!_ Umi withheld her fury and grinned, displaying her perfectly white, tiny pointed teeth. So what if Uwe was pretending she didn't exist? She could hunt for stupid objects and hunt Tundra at the same time! _Who cares if he has a wife?_

Phanuel yawned as he said the last team member's name. “Salem Allaway.” He blinked at the paper. “Is that one of mine?”

“I guess so,” Culvers replied. When he saw the man stepping out from the Fluorites, he changed his mind. “Are you sure that's one of yours?”

“I guess so,” Phanuel parroted back, laughing.

Salem stepped up to stand beside Umi and Tundra. “T,” he said as a greeting to the man, whom his sister, Vyxen, briefly introduced him to.

Tundra snorted and shook his head. _Only an Allaway,_ his expression said.

“Watch your fucking back,” came a stern warning from the crowd.

Salem laughed and replied, “Watch your fucking back.”

“Very fucking funny!”

“I fucking know!” Salem doubted anyone could beat his new friend, Ghenha, in a swearing contest, but he'd give it a go.

“Fetch your paper from Bracken,” Culvers interrupted, and pointed to where he was waiting with a frown and a ton of poorly stacked parchments. In one hand he had a long-stemmed pipe, wafting a thin plume of fragrant smoke. Bracken kept glancing at it and then back at the parchments as though trying to decide which to choose.

As the team came over to the table, Bracken took a quick puff of the pipe and said, “I asked if I could have time to reorganise them.” He gestured at the mess of papers. “The teams really shouldn't be going off like this, but Trenfal said, 'No', and who am I to argue?” He slapped a page into Tundra's hand and set about trying to tidy the piles.

 

With the most experience, Tundra took the role of leader and urged the others to head out of Las entirely. Umi seemed to think it was some kind of date as she continually tried to take his arm and flirt with him. In the end, he put Salem between them, which wasn't as perfect a solution as he thought it would be.

“Am I your shield?” Salem whispered, subtly blocking Umi when she tried to move around him.

“You're a buffer,” Tundra muttered.

“You think I'm buff?” Salem batted his eyelashes and pretended to flip his hair. Teasing Tundra the closet homophobe was fun. “Well, thank you for noticing.”

“Very funny.”

“You think I'm funny, too? Oh, Tundra, you charmer.” He giggled and slapped Tundra's bicep, copying Umi's earlier attempts at getting attention.

Tundra sighed and rolled his eyes, as Salem linked arms with him. “It's going to be one of those days.” He shook off the sniggering man. “Ok, I think we're far enough. Let's read this clue.”

Of the three, Umi was the most fluent in Illthdarian. When she laughed after reading the note, the men swapped glances.

“Share the joke,” Salem said.

“What do I get for it?” She smiled in what she thought was a foxy manner, but her pointy teeth gave it a sinister edge.

“The admiration of the Lord of Shining Intellect,” Tundra said blandly.

“Date's been singing my praises again, hasn't he?” Salem responded with a laugh.

Umi wasn't impressed, but didn't want to resort to outright demands of her prey; it was so tacky. “I'd rather have _your admiration,”_ she flirted, implying something far more than simple regard.

Tundra kept a straight face, but decided he definitely deserved a reward for putting up with the psychopathic fae. “I'm married.”

“Bonds can be broken.” Umi's grin widened.

Salem was heard choking back his mirth. “And I bet you've broken a few in your time,” he said, deciding to come to the rescue again. “But we don't have time to glue pieces of T back together again after you finish with him, so why don't you put that thought on ice,” he almost lost it at that, “and you two can talk about it later over some hellfire?”

Tundra was almost grateful. “We need to know what's on the card, Umi.”

Umi, missed the thinly veiled meaning. Convinced by his words, she said, “It's a drink recipe.”

Tundra raised his eyebrow. “I knew this hunt wouldn't be typical, but a drink recipe? Surely you mean a potion recipe.”

“Same difference,” Umi replied, rolling her black eyes, having mistranslated the word.

Tundra was wondering what he'd done in a previous life to deserve this team; it must have been something bad. “Read it out, then.”

 

“ _Claret, Ice, Salt Water, Sheut Tears, Echidna Essence.”_

 

“Sounds like a Halloween cocktail,” Salem said, half-disbelieving his ears. “It's gotta be a riddle, right? I mean, what's echidna essence when it's at home?” He was picturing the cute, hedgehog-looking animal from Australia. “I'll bet my right ass cheek it's not that.”

“Of course it's not a body part.” Umi wondered if this half-blood wasn't quite right in the head. “You're in Fluorite,” she added, as if this explained everything, the hairless ridge where her eyebrows should be, lifting.

“Yeah, I kinda think that's a mistake.”

“Obviously, if you can't even figure out a simple potion recipe.” She smirked at him and in less time than Salem decided he was going to be friends with Ghenha, he realised Umi wasn't going to be friends with anyone.

“No one's ever gonna squish your face,” he said pityingly, which made her frown.

“What _are_ you talking about?”

“All right,” Tundra interrupted, having thought carefully about the clue while the other two were having one of the oddest conversations he'd ever heard; and he was friends with Lerki and Inari. “We can't think of this like a regular scavenger hunt. Wherever this list came from it's because someone wants these ingredients for something.”

“Sounds like you know more about it than we do.” Salem had hidden his disappointment when Lerki failed to explain, but if Tundra knew... “Come on, T, spill.”

 

“Wow...so, we're kinda screwed,” Salem said once Tundra finished. He wasn't afraid of spiders so much, but if that was an example of the kind of thing they would come up against he was really curious what the winning prize was. As long as he beat Vyxen, it was all good.

“Not exactly, but it's not going to be a walk in the park.”

Salem pulled a face, as his last thought settled in his mind. “My sister!”

“Seth will look after her. Besides, she's tough. She survived in Illthdar before.”

“It's not that.” He wasn't worried. Much. “She does stupid things... _really stupid.”_ Like he could not emphasize enough the kind of stupid things Vyxen had done. He conveniently glossed over the reasons for the stupid things...mostly him telling her she couldn't do the stupid things, or that only he could do the stupid things, but they weren't talking about him.

“I think we're all aware of what Vyxen is capable of.” This had two meanings and both were accurate. “Besides, we all swore to look after the women.” Tundra winced, knowing exactly how patronizing it sounded, but he'd swear again in a heartbeat.

Umi didn't even care about any of this. “Can we just go to a tavern or something?” She edged closer to Tundra, who edged away.

“We need to do it, otherwise someone else will and they may not succeed.” He sent her a stern look, and she smiled flirtatiously.

Salem didn't help matters by snickering. “Ok, T, you take the lead. What's this list mean?”

“Claret is blood,” Umi declared, ignoring the other two deciding which of them was in charge. “It's also aufhocker slang,” she said this last part with bitterness, recalling Uwe using the word.

“Ice and salt water are kinda obvious,” Salem offered, moving onto the next items. “What's a sheut tear? And I know the echidna thing isn't talking about those little hedgehogs.”

“A sheut is another name for a doppelganger,” Tundra said, familiar with the word. “Luckily for us we don't have to go find any because they're pretty damn hard to kill. Phanuel should have tears and other fluids from the last time we encountered them.”

Salem really wanted to ask, but Tundra's face told him not to.

“Echidna is a monster that births other monsters,” Umi said with superiority, having learned this piece of information from her own mother. “Their essence is used as a fertility aid.”

Both men pulled faces at that.

“I don't want to know!” Tundra mentally refused to let the image settle in his brain.

“So, wait a minute.” Salem stared at the list of ingredients even though he couldn't read Illthdarian. “If Echidna Essence is a–” he pulled a face like he'd eaten something gross “– fertility thing, what's the other stuff for?”

Umi held her hand out for the paper and reread the list as if it would impart fresh information. “I don't know,” she concluded, dismissing it as stupid and flinging it back at him.

“I guess ice and salt water are to take the taste away.” Salem couldn't help joking.

Umi's black eyes rolled. “Who even cares! Why don't we just ask the person who wants it?” She pointed at the paper Salem now held and he turned it over to show them the crudely drawn map on the back.

Tundra traced out the destination and his face turned grim. “Oh, we'll definitely be asking them. In fact, there's a few things I'd like to discuss with the Varda aufhockers.”

 

~*~*~

 

The trio headed through the woods, taking the same path that Raemina, Imogen and Nyima had weeks before with Aina to reach Varda castle.

“I don't like coincidences,” Tundra said, trying to ignore the enclosing heat, as the foliage trapped the sun's rays, turning the path into a walk of fire. An ice magic user, he didn't like the heat.

“I don't like broccoli,” Salem quipped, grinning when the other man rolled his eyes. “But, I guess you're not sharing to shoot the breeze.”

“Aina Varda just happens to show up with a mission, and now an 'unknown' aufhocker sends us their shopping list?” He was mulling over the ingredients even as he spoke. “Why mention ice and salt water? They're freely available.”

“Maybe for you, Jingyi,” Umi said flirtatiously. “For other races, they don't have the luxury. Elementals don't like sharing. But you'd know, having one as your pet.”

Tundra paused. “She's not my pet, she's my wife. And don't call me that.” He then continued as if he'd never stopped, feeling this would be enough to warn Umi.

“I'm surprised you're still alive.” Oblivious, she continued, slanting a sly look at him. “Ice elementals aren't known for keeping company with warm bloods.” The information might come in handy if she ever met a male one.

“You're overstepping.” Last chance.

“I was only curious how a warm blood survives in a frozen bed.” She giggled, the sound a high pitched chattering.

Tundra stopped dead and snatched her by the elbow, holding her away from him as he said in an arctic tone, “Either get focused on the task at hand or get yourself back to Las. Either way, I'm done with your nonsense.” He released her just as suddenly and strode off ahead of her and Salem.

“Who does he think he is?” she muttered, passing a hand over her bald head.

“Awww, poor widdle, honey pie,” Salem mocked in a cheerful voice, concealing his own aggravation. “What can I do to make your _tiny,_ little world start turning again?”

“No one rejects me!” She stamped her foot, boot heel digging into the dry, hard ground.

Salem shook his head. Some fae he'd met acted worse than his little brother having a tantrum. “There's a first time for everything, princess,” he replied breezily, picking up his pace to catch Tundra. He slapped him on the back as he drew up beside him, leaving Umi to stew.

 

~*~*~

 

Umi trailed behind the two men until they reached the outskirts of Varda territory. Her lip curled when she saw Tundra wave to her to join them. There was also a gut twisting dart of pleasure at his regard. Her personal hunt was still on.

“We're not welcome here,” he said, though he didn't really need to. “There's only one entrance into the castle, and we'll need to get in and out quickly. We're looking for––”

“Me,” a bored voice said. A moment later, Aina Varda appeared from behind a tree. The dusky-skinned aufhocker appeared no worse for having been locked in her own dungeon, and she actually seemed pleased to see the trio. “Uwe gave you my message, I presume.”

“He gave us _a_ message,” Tundra replied, wary of any tricks she might pull. “It's part of the festival of the hunt.”

Aina didn't confirm this, instead asking, “Have you got the items?”

“The cocktail ingredients?” Salem waved the paper about. “Hi, Salem Allaway,” he said with a grin when she looked his way. “I'll bet my left testicle Uwe wasn't supposed to put this list in with the other hunts.” Aina's face showed no change of expression, but he nodded like she'd given away all her secrets. “Thought so.”

“Ugh, another one of his conquests,” Umi sneered. Was there no one that aufhocker hadn't bedded?

Aina's lips drew back from her fangs and she snarled at Umi. “I would _never_ lower myself to-to...” she shuddered and gagged, turning away as she fought the rising vomit in her throat.

“Wow, and I thought Vyxen's reaction to Uwe was the limit of disgust.” Salem would have to tell his sister he'd met someone who beat her soul shrivelling revulsion.

“That's not just her reaction to Uwe,” Tundra corrected. “She's like that with everyone.”

Umi stared at her green hands, tipped with black talons, disinterested. “Are you done yet?” she grouched to Aina, who finally straightened up and turned back to face them.

“Do you have the ingredients on the list, yes or no?”

“Why do you want them?” Tundra countered.

“That is none of your concern.” Secrets filled Aina's eyes.

“Then the answer is 'no', and we're done here.” He gestured for the others to go, but didn't turn his own back on Aina; she was still an aufhocker, even if she didn't like touching people. He eyed her as he trod backwards, waiting for her to crack. He figured a count of twenty would be more than enough and silently began.

_One, two, three, four, five..._

“What are we gonna say to Uwe when we get back?” Umi was actually more interested in how she could dump him in a steaming pile of crap for having sent them out there without proper authorisation, but blackmailing the bastard would work just as well.

Aina was glaring at Tundra, keeping her silver-green gaze locked with his blue, daring him to keep going.

“Nothing,” he said in response to Umi.

_Six, seven, eight, nine, ten..._

“I'm all for dropping him in it, just coz he's a _massive tool_ , but shouldn't we inform the Order before others get sent out here?”

“Uwe only put one copy of the card in with the others.” Tundra was certain of this because the amount of effort involved in writing the clue out over and over and then slipping them all in with Bracken's other papers. Far too much work, versus putting one note in and hoping whichever team got it could do the job.

_Eleven, twelve, thirteen, four –_

“Wait.”

“Gave her too much credit,” Tundra murmured, as he indicated for the others to stop.

Aina closed the distance in the blink of an eye. “I need it,” she said quietly, looking to the ground, rather than continue to meet his eye. “Don't make me explain. I just...need it...please.”

Umi snickered and earned an elbow to the ribs from Salem.

“Told you no one would ever squish your face,” he said with a shrug when she glared at him.

Tundra stared at Aina's bowed head. When he'd last seen her she'd been haughty and proud, a sneer curling her lip as she eyed the interior of his house, and found it lacking. This Aina was not that Aina. Still...

“We're going to have a talk, you and I, before this is over.”

She dipped her head in acknowledgement. “Very well.” She looked up and scanned the forest for something. “I assumed Nyima would be with you...for the ice,” she explained when she received blank looks from Salem and Umi.

“You did want her blood then.” That confirmed that. “Forget it.”

Aina shrugged, silver hair rippling over her shoulders. “It would be easier than taking another elemental, but no matter. You will find the glacians in a cave at the bottom of the cliff. They hide there during summer months.”

“There are ice elementals around here?” Umi's eyes widened with surprise.

“They are in training.” Silver-green eyes refusing to meet anyone's gaze, she obviously knew more, but didn't want to say.

“So, any would have fit the bill,” Tundra said, rubbing his chin.

“Of course,” Aina replied, face devoid of emotion. “Nyima is the only one I have met that isn't...” she trailed off, trying to think of a suitable word.

“Hazardous to your health,” Salem offered, grinning.

“Yes.” She would settle for that.

“Maybe not to you,” Tundra muttered under his breath, picturing several times when she'd almost given him a heart attack without trying. “What should we expect from these elementals?”

“Why don't you just go get it yourself?” Umi snapped. She was fed up with this mission. Tundra was being the opposite of the dorky male she thought he was, and all she wanted to do was go back to Las and get Uwe in trouble! If she was clever, she might even get him removed as High Elder!

“Yeah, aufhocker against weakened elementals, easy win,” Salem threw out. His brows came together as he caught Tundra's expression. “Not an easy win?”

“Not for her,” he replied, choosing not to give away Aina's secrets.

She inclined her head, acknowledging the courtesy. “There are two. Either will do.”

“How are we supposed to bring you their blood?” Somehow, Salem asked this as if it were a takeout order.

With a single, silvery brow raised, Aina drew out a glass vial and tossed it towards them. Umi snatched it, beating Tundra by a half-second.

The display of swiftness impressed him, thinking it would come in handy down in the cave.

 

~*~*~

 

Having left Aina at the top of a cliff path, the trio descended to the rocky shore below. Waves lapped at their feet and clinging seaweed made their way treacherous. Several times Umi shrieked as she slid towards the edge, only to be saved by either Salem or Tundra grabbing her. When she realised they would snatch her back regardless of how they felt, she did it on purpose.

“I think we can discount the element of surprise from our list of advantages,” Tundra said, getting fed up and creating a small ledge of ice between them and the drop. It wouldn't last long, thanks to the salt water, but it would stop Umi screaming in his ear every time she nearly fell.

“Oh, Tundra, you're so clever!” She grabbed his arm and tried to kiss his cheek, but he darted away.

“If I was that clever I'd have screwed with the team listing,” he muttered.

Salem overheard this and snorted. “You don't like my company?” he teased.

“You're like Seth when he's had a few drinks,” Tundra shot back in a dry tone. “Over affectionate and think you could have a career as a comedian.”

“Aww, you don't think I'm gut-bustingly hilarious?” Seth willed his lips to turn down. “I'm hurt.” He put his hands together in a heart shape and mimed it breaking.

Fortunately for Tundra, Salem then slipped on some seaweed and had to concentrate on his footing, preventing any further jokes.

“We call that karma,” he said, lips twisting with amusement, as the orange orb in his left eye socket glowed bright.

Reaching the base of the cliff, the terrain evened out a little and became less of a struggle to navigate.

“Aina said the cave was over there.” Tundra pointed and, sure enough, there it was. “We should figure out some kind of plan,” he said, indicating for the others to stop. “My ice won't be much use against them, but theirs won't either, so I think the best thing is for me to go first as a decoy.” He eyed the axe strapped to Salem's back and then examined Umi. “Now's the time to reveal anything useful,” he said.

“I have no idea what I am,” Salem shrugged, feeling bad. “But, the cold doesn't bother me much, and I've got this,” he gestured with his thumb to his weapon.

Umi's gaze wouldn't meet Tundra's. Since she spent her time until now attempting to get his attention, it was obvious she was trying to hide something.

“Umi.”

She rolled her eyes and fiddled with one of her hoop earrings.

“Umi!”

She sighed and waggled her fingers. From behind her several small, glowing things appeared and hovered above her shoulder. “Wisps,” she said. “They find things and take things and...other stuff.” She didn't want to reveal the extent of her servant's abilities.

“What _other_ stuff?” Tundra wasn't in the mood to pander. He needed as much information as possible so they could survive this encounter.

Umi reluctantly explained a little more, and Tundra came up with some kind of plan. They would need a miracle to get through unscathed, but he felt they'd drawn a pretty decent task considering what he knew about the hunt.

“Ok,” Tundra said. “Does everyone understand what their role is?”

Umi ran a hand over her bald head. “Why are we even doing this? Who cares about some stupid hunt anyway?”

“Poor baby, want me to find your pacifier?” Salem's eye twitched. He was getting annoyed. “Why d'you sign up if you were just going to complain the whole time?”

Umi fell silent, her black eyes sliding towards Tundra, before she turned her whole head to stare out to sea. “No reason,” she said.

Salem looked at Tundra. In his mid-twenties, he was well built, solid, calm and not bad looking. The tech eyepatch and glowing orange thing where his left eye should be were unusual, but not off-putting. There was some sagging along the left side of his face, but none of that seemed to stop women throwing themselves at him. The sleeve length tattoo on his left arm was also pretty neat. Tundra gave off a good-boy-gone-bad vibe, so Salem could see why he got attention. “Dude, you gotta share your secret,” he joked.

“I already told you: karma,” Tundra replied in a rueful voice. He drew in a deep breath. “Umi, can we rely on you?”

“Yes,” she said in a sullen tone.

“Let's go then.”

 

Entering the cave, Tundra could sense the faintest chill lingering in the air. The walls were damp and water dripped from the ceiling. He edged forward, mentally crossing his fingers that Umi would do her part. He wasn't concerned about Salem, apart from the risk of injury, and he only considered that because he had the feeling as much as Vyxen joked how annoying her brother was, if he returned to Las hurt, Tundra would suffer for it. A frown drew his brow down, as something came hurtling towards him. It was a small, tan-spotted cat running as fast as it could and dragging a piece of fabric in its mouth. Behind it, also holding something in its mouth was a black and purple striped cat.

A muffled yowl had Tundra pressing his back to the wall as they darted past. “D'nag?” he frowned, then felt himself pushed harder to the wall as the black cat opened its third eye. The telekinetic shove didn't hurt, but was typical of Vyxen's companion, Rhys.

They bounded past Salem, who was bringing up the rear. His grey eyes widened as he stared after them, a mixture of confusion and amusement on his face. “Do companions do that often?” His own brought several pieces of women's underwear. He'd kept it, since he didn't know who the owners were. 

“Yes,” Tundra sighed, picturing the ton of crap his own one dragged back regularly. “You should watch out for those two, they're the companion equivalent of super villains.” He still had scars from his last run in with his wife's contrary trekadisk, who could be sweet as pie one day and evil incarnate the next. “They couldn't have chosen a worse time to do this.” He squared his shoulders and turned his attention back where it belonged. “We better hurry, Umi will wonder what's taking so long.”

 

 


	5. The Divine: Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The shape-shifter, Rhovan, and Imogen's brother, Xyl, are paired with an annoying half-blood named Jenshi. Their task is to reach Diyu's table, but once there things take a sinister turn.

 

“Please be careful,” Raemina said to Rhovan as her name was called out.

“You're the one off on an adventure first,” he replied with a chuckle. “I should be saying that to you.”

She frowned, but there was no more time to talk. With a nod to the others, she headed over to the platform to wait for her teammates to be assigned.

“She's worried for nothing, right?” He looked to the three remaining Jasper Acolytes.

“Yes, if you get an easy clue,” Scyanatha stated. “If not...” Her enigmatic smile wasn't comforting.

Rhovan felt a flutter in his skull as Linuad shifted; he really didn't need a headache today. “I wonder what the clues are,” he said, trying to distract both of them.

“According to Date, they're requests that came from outside Las and were ignored.” Tundra simplified his friend's long-winded explanation. His name was called and he reached out to touch Nyima's shoulder. “Good hunting,” he said, when her eyes met his.

“ _Uukhai,”_ she replied with a nod. She watched him stride through the crowd and place himself in front of Culvers.

Scy smiled at them and wondered how Seth was doing.

“Why all the secrecy?” Rhovan brought the conversation back to the thing he was most curious about. He'd had an impossible time trying to find out from the Elders what the hunt involved, but a single question blew open his conspiracy theories on the subject.

Scyanatha shrugged. “The hunt is a mass clearing out of neglected missions and restocking the laboratorium. Phanuel's a little desperate after the accident.”

Ignoring the blush creeping over his cheeks, Rhovan focused on the fact perhaps there was a mystery or two left to uncover about the hunt. He was about to share his thoughts with the two women when he noticed one was missing. “Er, where did Nyima go?”

Glancing to her left, Scyantha raised an eyebrow. “Bathroom,” she answered smoothly. It was one of several stock answers for anyone who questioned Nyima or Tundra's sudden disappearance. “I'm sure she'll be back before her name is called.”

Rhovan shrugged and then felt a jolt of excitement go through him. He looked over to see Culvers wearing an expression of evaporating patience. A liubul'k leaped up and down next to him trying to snatch the slip of paper in his hand. “Rhovan, first son of Ishba and Leiyen.”

“Is that Loui?” Scy tittered. “I thought he was banned from being in public after the last disaster.”

“Have you ever tried to stop a wilful liubul'k from doing whatever it wants?” Rhovan laughed, waving to draw the High Elder's attention. “Over here!”

 

“There's a stall that sells leashes,” Phanuel commented in a dry tone, brown eyes on the scatty companion, as Rhovan came to stand before Culvers.

“I have a leash. Loui slips it.”

“Of course he does,” Phanuel sighed and was about to grab a name from the giant leaf he held when Uwe took hold of his forearm.

“Mine first.” Uwe released him and dug around in the crystal bowl, hoping the next person he got wouldn't irritate him. “Jenshi Smith,” he growled, wondering what he'd done to anger the fates today.

There was a whoop and a half-blood appeared, posing and pointing at random Acolytes like he was a celebrity acknowledging the little people. He was fortunate that one of the actual little people was too far away to respond to her teammate in the manner she wanted to. Instead Ghenha yelled, “Stop being a fucking idiot, Jenshi!”

“You know you love me!” he called back, blowing a kiss when he spotted her sitting atop a wall.

“Drop dead!”

The dark-skinned, young man shrugged and continued on up to the platform. “Yo, Uwe!” he said, oblivious of the death-glare he got for the greeting.

“Let's get these idiots out of here.” Phanuel rolled his eyes, finishing what he started and flicking open the folded slip of paper in his hand. “Xyl Kallder.” He frowned. “You're supposed to be on infirmary duty.”

Xyl's gait was so bouncy, he skipped up to Phanuel and smiled at him. “You said you needed Acolytes!”

“Not you,” he replied in a cross voice.

“I'll be all right!” Xyl's speech was a rapid fire that wasn't always intelligible, as if he couldn't wait to get his words out.

Phanuel muttered something under his breath and then sighed. “Go.”

Xyl grinned and looked to his teammates, waving at Rhovan, who he knew through Lerki. He stuck his hand out to Jenshi. “I'm Xyl!”

“Not one single girl.” Jenshi ignored the greeting and looked up to the heavens, golden eyes filled with disappointment. “God, why do you hate me?”

 

By the time the trio got to Bracken's table, some sort of order was restored to the earlier mess.

“Don't touch!” He slapped their hands away, instead handing them one. “Everyone is getting this one first. I have no idea what the others picked up, but I am not going to be responsible for sending anyone else off without proper support.”

Rhovan found the choice of words interesting, since they were supposed to be in competition with each other. “We're supporting the other teams, not competing against them?”

Bracken's equine face turned red, like he'd given away a secret. He waved them off as Loui ran around the table, barking. His furry scales banged against the underside of the table, upsetting some of the cards.

“Loui, stop that.” Rhovan's tone was nowhere near commanding enough for the companion to heed him. Instead it increased its mad whirling to the point it crashed into the table and knocked the majority of the papers on the floor again.

“Why am I cursed?” Bracken wailed, face screwed up in frustration.

Jenshi was laughing so much he was in danger of falling flat on his backside, but Xyl was already crouching down to scoop up as many of the notes as he could hold. “Here, let me help you.”

“Er, sorry, Bracken,” Rhovan said with a wince, freezing in place when he was glared at.

“Now, Loui,” Xyl said in a patient tone, as he put papers on the table. “You should apologize to Bracken. Look how upset you've made him.”

The liubul'k immediately stopped still and cocked his head.

“Oh, sorry!” Xyl ducked his head. “That was insensitive of me. Well, he's very upset because you knocked all his papers over.”

Loui went down on his forelegs and covered his head with one paw.

“He's very sorry, Bracken. I'm sure he won't do it again.” Xyl punctuated this with the sweetest smile.

Bracken looked from the adorable companion to the adorable man and sighed. “Just take your clue and get out of here.”

 

Having made their escape into the Brewery, which for once was completely empty, the trio stopped to see what they were given.

“Who can read this crap?” Jenshi waved the paper in the air, preventing either man from taking it.

“I can,” Rhovan said.

“So can I!” Xyl hopped with excitement.

Jenshi snorted and tossed it upwards, letting the other two scramble to catch it.

Xyl caught the paper first, whooping like he'd won a game, while Rhovan had to restrain his animal instinct to punch Jenshi on the nose, which made his head throb again.

Carefully unfolding clue, Xyl read it to himself first, before reciting it to the others.

 

“ _Up the wooden hill,_

_Cross the sky-clad path,_

_Through Diyu's gates,_

_To the Golden table.”_

 

“They want a table?” Jenshi said in disbelief. “I ain't no mover. Besides, I thought the Jasper Order made all the furniture?”

“No,” Rhovan explained, taking the note from Xyl and re-reading it, not because he thought Xyl was wrong, but to see if there was any hidden meaning in how the words were phrased. “The golden table is the location.” He thought the clue was vague. It didn't give them a starting point or a direction to go. He stared at it intently, bringing the paper closer to his face. He caught the scent of musk and pressed it to his nose, breathing deeply.

“Bet you're a secret panty sniffer,” Jenshi smirked.

Rhovan ignored him and his head throbbed for it. “It's coated with something.” He passed it back to Xyl.

Xyl rubbed some of the residue between his fingers and then dabbed it on his tongue.

Jenshi threw his hands up. “Oh God, do you people not know what a woman is?”

Xyl chuckled at this, realising someone made assumptions. “It's some kind of trace magic. I guess if we walk far enough from Las we'll find the starting point for this hunt.”

“Why didn't anyone tell us this?” Rhovan was wondering how the teams would get all across Las.

“Er, who cares? Can we just get this over with?” Jenshi's golden eyes were full to the brim with boredom. There were no girls around, and the blue-haired guy with the interesting face he'd seen before the hunt started turned out to be a complete nerd! And the ginger one wasn't much better. If he'd wanted to hang out with someone he had zero interest in he would've joined Umi!

Rhovan and Xyl swapped looks and shored up their good cheer.

“Let's get going then!” Xyl gestured for Jenshi to go first.

“Where am I going?”

“It doesn't matter,” Rhovan explained in a patient voice. “We just need to get far enough away from Las.”

Jenshi eyed a set of three female fae outside the window. “Let's go that way then.”

Rhovan sighed and tried not to let the subtle ache in his head affect his mood. “Today is going to be interesting, if nothing else.”

“It's going to be fun!” Xyl said enthusiastically, nudging Rhovan's shoulder. “I'm sure Jenshi has his good qualities, and besides, he wouldn't have been allowed to take part if he was totally useless!”

Rhovan's silence spoke volumes.

 

~*~*~

 

Xyl was right in saying that, once they got far enough from the conflicting trace magics of the different hunts, their paper would reveal the portal they needed to take. In fact, Jenshi fell through it, thanks to walking backwards as he rambled on in intimate detail about each of the women he'd met since arriving in Illthdar.

The sudden silence was a relief.

Xyl was struck speechless, being too polite to voice his displeasure, and ignored anyway when he tried to tactfully change the subject.

Rhovan, on the other hand, was about five seconds away from testing his fist against Jenshi's jaw and seeing which was stronger. Linuad, thrashing about inside him was giving him the mother of all headaches; the wolf was champing at the bit to beat Jenshi into dust for his crude descriptions of every woman he ever laid eyes on, including his own teammates: A pixie, Umi, whose pointy teeth seemed to have put him off a more intimate relationship; a dwarf named Ghenha, who was the one yelling obscenities at him, and a faery called Hero, who was assigned to the infirmary. She wanted to take part, Jenshi said, but her father sent a sternly worded letter to Inari, and that was that. Jenshi laughed as he re-enacted Hero's horror stricken face, even going so far as to put his hands up and hide behind them, mimicking the sweet girl's embarrassment. It was at this point he fell through the portal and saved his teeth from being knocked out.

“Still think he has his good qualities?” Rhovan's smile was wry as he cautiously stepped in after the mouthy half-blood.

Loui leapt in like he was diving into a muddy puddle – if only the liubul'k was that enthusiastic about taking a bath.

Xyl had to admit even his glass-half-full mentality was starting to drain away when it came to Jenshi. He thought of Cowan and how prickly he was when they first met and figured Jenshi needed a sympathetic ear and some empathy. He hoped that'd be enough because otherwise Jenshi was going to end up needing antiseptic and bandages.

 

~*~*~

 

“'Up the wooden hill',” Rhovan breathed, violet eyes bright with excitement.

The trio were at the base of a mountain. The only way up was a rising walkway crafted from wood and driven into the rock face, so that it stuck out at an angle. It looked treacherous, even with a rope strung across the side open to the elements to act as a guard rail.

“Holy crap! I didn't think it meant literally!” Jenshi whistled as he tipped his head back, trying to see the summit. “It goes right up into the clouds!”

“That must be the sky clad path!” Xyl guessed, eager to get going.

Loui bounded past them, scrambling up the incline and somehow managing not to fall off the side of the cliff.

“Loui, be careful!” Rhovan ran after him and tripped, banging his knee. “Ow!”

“Guess you need to work on your doggy style.” Jenshi's hiccuping laugh echoed back to them from across the chasm.

Xyl blushed, brows pinching together. “Are you ok, Rhovan? I have some ointment in my satchel.” His hand went to the bag hanging down by his hip.

“We should probably save anything like that for serious injuries,” he replied, rubbing his knee, and grateful for the offer. “Let's get going. I don't think we want to still be climbing after dark.” He got to his feet and started up, with Xyl following close behind.

“After dark?” Jenshi's almond eyes were wide. “Why the hell would it take all day to find one item on a scavenger hunt?”

“Because it's not an ordinary hunt!” Xyl called back.

“Didn't you figure that out yet?” Rhovan added. He felt cheeky since he learned what the hunt was that morning. But, Jenshi didn't know that.

“Ah, goddammit!” Jenshi complained, then changed his tune. “Hey, ladies. Jenshi, here. You need me to spot you on the climb up?”

Two faeries and a male half-blood came into view and passed Rhovan and Xyl.

Then, Jenshi did, too. “Come on then! You guys said we should get a move on!”

“If only we could work out some kind of carrot and stick method for him involving a pretty girl,” Rhovan mused aloud.

“That wouldn't be very nice for the girl!” Xyl laughed back.

“Good point. Let's just beat him with a stick then.”

 

As the air grew thinner, there was less chat between Xyl and Rhovan, which both considered a shame. On the up side, Jenshi couldn't talk either, so they figured it was a small sacrifice for a large gain.

Once they reached the summit they found a platform jutting out into the low lying clouds. They each looked about, trying to figure how they were supposed to: “cross the sky clad path.”

Loui seemed to have no trouble with the thin air. He was still bounding about with an almost limitless supply of energy. He ran up and down the final slope, past them all several times before hurling himself out past the point where the platform ended.

“Loui!”

“It's ok!” Xyl said, breathless. “He says there's a path!”

The liubul'k found the sky clad path. Although, when Rhovan saw it, he scooped up the companion and stepped back. “No, Loui. Not this time.”

The narrow stretch of rock was barely wide enough for a grown man, and it was covered with clouds, making it hard to see. Rhovan figured either magic or the mechanics of Illthdar were the only reason it stayed up, because he couldn't see any kind of support below. How Loui managed not to tumble off was anyone's guess. Rhovan looked at his wriggling companion fondly. “Xyl, would you be able to make him go home?” he said quietly. “I couldn't live with myself if something happened to him, and this hunt is starting to get dangerous.”

Xyl greens eyes crinkled as he smiled. “Sure. I can try, but I can't make him if he doesn't want to.”

Rhovan smiled. “That's all I'm asking. Thanks.”

Xyl nodded and Rhovan put Loui down, first having to endure his face being washed with its small, pink tongue.

“Loui.” Xyl's messy, red-brown hair was pushed back with one freckled hand as he knelt down. “I know you want to stay with us and help, but Rhovan needs you to go back home now, where you're safe.”

A whine accompanied a sad little head tilt.

“That won't work on me. Your puppy dog eyes are nothing on Cowan's,” he said in a gentle tone, smiling. “If you fell off the path, or got hurt, Rhovan would be very sad.”

The liubul'k turned to where his person stood. Loui barked once and then hurtled off back the way they came.

“I can't believe that actually worked!” Rhovan's eyebrows were up by his hairline. “Amazing!”

Xyl opened his mouth to explain.

“I can't believe you wasted time on a dog,” Jenshi interrupted, folding his arms across his chest. He stood by and watched as the girls he'd followed disappeared out of sight through the clouds, while the two nerds he was with talked to a liubul'k like it understood them. He didn't care if their team won or lost, but at least if he'd been with girls he would've had something to flirt with.

Rhovan pulled a face and massaged his temples.

“Are you all right?” Xyl's concern was immediate.

“Just a headache.” Rhovan waved him off. He strode to where the path began. “Let's go.”

 

~*~*~

 

“Jenshi, did you ever think that the reason you don't have a girlfriend is because the way you talk about women isn't very nice?” Rhovan was at the front of the trio, testing each step before putting his foot down. Their progress was slow, and further hampered by Jenshi at the rear droning on about his favourite subject: women. It turned out, however, that he didn't actually have that much experience with them, for when Xyl gently asked some probing questions, he couldn't answer. And since it was Xyl asking the questions, the answers were very obvious indeed.

“They love it,” Jenshi called out in a pervy voice. “You tell me what woman doesn't love knowing that a guy is steaming for her.”

“There's showing interest and there's being disrespectful,” Xyl said. He was waiting for a chance to nudge Jenshi in the right direction and this seemed to be the best chance he'd get. “Like the 'hot fae' you keep mentioning: Scyanatha.” He pulled a face at Jenshi's choice of words. Xyl was a guest at Scy's wedding to Seth and found all Jenshi's leering distasteful, especially since he knew she was married. “She, like a lot of women, enjoy compliments. Like saying her outfit is becoming, or she has a nice smile.” Xyl was actually listing compliments he gave Cowan. “How you phrase it is important, but being genuine matters more.”

Rhovan was taking mental notes on this, impressed with the common sense.

“What are you babbling on about? Like you even know anything about women anyway.” Jenshi was dismissive and Xyl tried not to be hurt by this. Just because he was in a loving relationship with another man didn't mean he was clueless; love and respect were both genderless and universal.

“Love and respect are things everyone wants,” he echoed his thought aloud, picturing his satyr boyfriend and smiling.

They reached the end of the sky path and moved to firmer ground, fanning out across the wider area, which appeared to be a floating island. In front of them was a set of gates, the iron worked into a single design depicting the life cycle: angels gifting a couple with a baby on one side, and death cutting down an elderly person on the other.

“As long as you respect the ass, right?” That hiccuping laughter rang out once more.

Xyl stopped dead. He was so caught up staring at the beauty in front of him that Jenshi's words were like being slapped in the face with ugliness.

Jenshi was grinning and nodding his head slowly. “Yeah, I got your number.”

Xyl turned, the expression on his face one of utter dismay. He had no idea what he'd done to offend Jenshi and deserve being offended in return. “Why are you so crude?” he whispered. He genuinely couldn't understand this person and his need to gut everything that was beautiful about people.

Rhovan slanted a glance to the pair, worried and wondering if he should intervene, but if he did he knew he'd lose control to Linuad and then they'd all be in deep trouble.

Jenshi leant towards Xyl, invading his personal space and making him uncomfortable. “Coz, that's how everyone is really,” he whispered, lip curling. “Women, men, fae. Even those half animal freaks. Don't tell me they don't like rutting away every chance they get.”

Xyl went cold. He drew in a deep breath, getting a taste of the overpowering scent Jenshi splashed all over himself that morning. It felt like the brightness of his soul was tainted. His arm flew back and forth at speed. Jenshi's head snapped to the side and a maroon imprint immediately coloured his cheek, clearly outlining a hand print.

Xyl's hand burned and he curled his fingers into a fist, wanting to soothe the hurt, but also let it scorch his skin, telling himself he shouldn't feel bad about what he'd just done; Jenshi was a complete ass. He bit the inside of his cheek and shook his head, flinging tears aside before they could fall from his green eyes. “Don't you ever speak like that to me again,” he whispered, shaking. He turned and marched past a shocked Rhovan.

“What'd I say?” Jenshi put his hand to his face and rubbed his aching jaw.

“Xyl's partner is a satyr,” Rhovan replied in an unsympathetic voice. “You just insulted one of the people he loves most in the whole world.” As Jenshi opened his mouth, Rhovan put his hand up. “If someone insulted your loved ones a slap is the least they'd deserve.”

Jenshi's mouth closed and he nodded, dropping his eyes from the shape-shifter's. “Right,” he muttered. “Sorry.”

“I'm not the one you should apologize to.” He turned to catch up with Xyl, ignoring the increased pounding in his head that told him words were not how Linuad wanted to educate the rude boy.

 

“These must be the gates of Diyu,” Rhovan commented, putting his hand on Xyl's back in a gesture of silent comfort.

Xyl sniffed a couple of times and then smiled. “Yes, they must be.” He had no idea who Diyu was, but he hoped they'd be good company. “Should we look for a bell?”

Jenshi's snort was ignored by both of them.

A quick search by the pair resulted in no way of opening the gates. “There must be some way in. There were other teams in front of us, so where'd they go?”

“Over?” Jenshi suggested.

“Maybe they went over,” Xyl offered.

“That's what I said.” Jenshi crossed his arms and frowned.

“Good idea, Xyl.” Rhovan stared up at the top of the gates; it was a long way up. “Even with three of them they wouldn't have reached.”

“Hello! Could we come in, please!” Xyl's shout echoed around the plateau.

“That's not going to––” Jenshi was forced to eat his words as one of the gates swung back, permitting them entry. “Must be electric,” he muttered.

Xyl and Rhovan passed amused looks and went in.

 

~*~*~

 

“I hope Diyu doesn't mind us dropping in like this,” Rhovan said quietly, as they tiptoed down a corridor. The stunning opulence of the palace hidden behind the gates made him feel shabby in comparison; he'd put old clothes on to take part in the hunt and strapped on leather leg and arm bracers that didn't quite fit. The rest of his team didn't look that good either; Xyl had dirt stains on the knees of his trousers and his face was blotchy from crying. Jenshi had a layer of dust clinging to his tunic as well as the lingering odour of the scent he wore. “I guess it doesn't matter either way.”

Xyl was staring at the intricate frescos lining the wall. He couldn't help but smile as he picked out the features of many different races in Illthdar, and saw all the ways that families and couples could be put together. The single theme seemed to be life in abundance, and he was filled with admiration and joy as his eyes drank in the sight. “This is so beautiful.” He carefully put his hand to the wall, mindful of damaging the delicate scenes. “I wonder who painted it.”

“I did.” The voice that came from the opposite end of the corridor was soft, feminine and kind. “You are an art lover,” the woman said, smiling at him. She wore several layers of kimono robes, the one nearest her pearly skin was a dazzling white, the others more pink in hue until reaching the top-most layer which was gold fading to rose as it pooled about her feet. There was a design of tiny flowers, undulating over fields and rising to a hilltop that could be seen only when she turned her back on the trio, though it was partly covered by the thick, green obi tied about her waist. “Come.” Her voice was melodic, hypnotic. The trio found themselves walking forward without thought. “You shall be guests at my table.”

 

The men walked into a softly lit room and saw the golden table mentioned in the clue. Seated around it were the other hunt teams, all very still with serene expressions on their faces.

“Hey, ladies!” Jenshi's loud greeting was met with absent murmurs. He shrugged and sat down on a cushion next to a green-haired woman. “Hey, beautiful. What's your name?”

“Gentlemen,” the woman interrupted in a soft voice. “Please, sit and partake.”

Rhovan frowned, cautious. Something wasn't right here. Everyone looked dazed. Was it something in the air? He could still feel the lack of oxygen from being up so high. Or maybe it was the food? A plate of fruits was before each Acolyte; some had eaten, some hadn't.

“It has been an age since I have had so many visitors.” The woman looked like a sweet grandmother, not some dangerous creature. “I was not expecting anyone and only have fruit and some tea. I hope this is to everyone's taste.” She made the smallest of movements and a petite, ochre-skinned pixie wandered out from a side room. She was carrying a golden tray, upon which was a bone china teapot and several small cups. These were placed in front of the trio without ceremony and the teapot was put before the woman. “This is a special blend, much sought after.”

Rhovan's ears pricked up at this. “Really?” he said, leaning forward to try and catch the scent wafting through the spout. “We've been sent here to find something 'much sought after'.” He hoped the mimicry would make her more agreeable to giving up a pouch of the tea. _It must be the item for this hunt/_

“We're taking part in the festival of the hunt,” Xyl added. He was looking about the room at all the images painted on the walls. “You are very talented,” he complimented, smiling broadly when he spotted the image of a satyr surrounded by nymphs; he was playing a harp and looked at one with both himself and his surroundings.

“I am aware of the hunt,” the lady replied in a melodic tone, “and thank you for noticing. You are the first to do so.”

Jenshi leant back on the cushion, bored with trying to get the women to talk; they were all like zombies. “So we came all the way here to get some tea? Man, that's worse than the table. At least we won't bust our asses carrying it back.”

Rhovan squeezed his eyes shut and pulled a face. “Sorry about him, he was born without a filter.”

“I am familiar with the type.” She leant over to pour tea into each of their cups. “Please, you must all be parched after your long climb.”

“Thank you, lady Diyu,” Rhovan said, marvelling at the colour of the tea in his cup; it was a brilliant gold and the scent was a mixture of jasmine and some kind of herbs. It tickled his nose and sent an odd shudder through him, but it wasn't an unpleasant smell.

Jenshi pulled a face and knocked his tea back in one mouthful, ignoring how it burned his throat. “Thanks a bunch. Beer would've been better,” he muttered under his breath.

“You are welcome, but I am not Diyu.” The lady laughed as Rhovan sipped from his cup. “That is the name of my home.” She gestured to the beauty around them.

Xyl brought his cup to his lips.

“I am Meng Po.”

There was a clatter as Xyl dropped his cup on the table. “Rhovan, don't!”

 


	6. The Fairest: Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scyanatha Dubhgealach finds herself teamed with the second shyest demon she's ever met and a sylph originally assigned to her husband's team. Annoyed at what she sees as a betrayal, Scyanatha lets her mischievous side out to play, but the fun and games are over too soon when they arrive at the palace of Danu: Goddess of all Unseelie.

 

Scyanatha stood alone, waiting patiently for someone to call her name, but there were limits to even her reserves. The hunt began not long after dawn, with people grumbling about the early hour. Now it was midmorning, and people were still grumbling.

“Scyanatha Dubhlegha,” Culvers butchered her last name, and she tittered.

“Dubhgealach,” she corrected with an amused smile, moving to take her place in front of him. She spied Date in the crowd looking bored and wondered if he would be on her team.

Uwe blinked a few times then delved his hand into the bowl in front of him, licking his lips as he eyed the tall and beautiful faery. “Cuculaiin.” He frowned and turned the paper over. “Is that it?”

“I'm Cuculaiin!” A short, red-skinned demon excused his way through the crowd.

“No last name?” Uwe mocked.

“I haven't earned one yet,” Cuculaiin replied in an even tone.

Uwe opened his mouth to say more when an eerie wail echoed through the crowd.

“I don't want to!”

“Ari, please. We've already had this once today, and it's not as if Ira's with you,” Phanuel added, as he motioned for the sylph to come out.

“Yes, she is!”

The duo slunk out of hiding and Scyanatha's ruby eyes widened. “You're supposed to be with my friends!”

“They were boring,” Ira sulked. “They kept being serious.”

“It's a hunt. Of course it's serious.” She restrained her temper and held onto her calm poise though it was a close thing. “You left my husband and my friend without proper support from the Fluorite Order?” Her tone was imperious, regal. “Are you aware of the penalty if my consort dies due to your negligence?” Her words a stern reminder that although she was an Acolyte of Las, she was also the future Queen of the Aos Si.

The two sylphs shrank under the weight of Scy's ire. “Consort?” one whispered to the other. “He didn't look like a consort.”

“Scyanatha.” Culvers called her attention. “Are you able to work with this team?”

“I can't leave Ira!” Ari shrilled.

“If they must both come along, then so be it. I refuse to withdraw.” _There. Let that be part of their punishment._ She was planning to make as much mischief for them as possible. _I only hope Seth and Vyxen are able to manage without whatever knowledge Ira has._ She eyed the silly creatures and reconsidered they were better off without her.

 

Cuculaiin hurried to the table where Bracken's papers were and noticed they were in disarray. “Um, should I take one of these? Would you like me to help tidy?”

“Why bother?” Bracken grumbled, shrugging. “Some girl will come along and knock into the table, or someone's liubul'k will think the cards are his lunch. I give up!” He threw his hands up and turned to go through the arch behind him, ignoring the calls from Culvers and Phanuel to come back.

“Ok then,” Cuculaiin mumbled, taking a piece of paper at random and rejoining the others. “I think someone ruined Bracken's organisation,” he murmured, sidling up to Scyanatha. “He seems very cross.”

 

The four Acolytes moved to the common room where a few returning teams were resting up. Scy scanned the tired, dirty and blood-splattered faces present, but Seth and Vyxen were absent. They were the first team to set off, but if what Cuculaiin said was correct, someone muddled up the clues. _They may have ended up with the worst hunt of all...What if they don't come back?_ _No. I cannot think like that. They are both capable fighters and I trust them._ The untrustworthy one was part of her team now. “What was your team's clue?” She rounded on Ira sternly. If she could recall, then they could go and help; it would still count as a hunt. She would make it count.

“I don't remember,” Ira pouted. “Something about the man being scared.”

Scy shook her head and made a frustrated sound in her throat; there was nothing she could think of that fit. She would just have to trust they were ok. If not, Ira would regret it for the rest of her short life. She turned to Cuculaiin and held her hand out. “Let's see what we'll be hunting.” A grim smile curled the corners of her lips.

He handed it over apologetically. “I don't understand it,” he said, voice heavy with regret. “I should have picked a better one.”

Scyanatha looked at the card, fine eyebrows rising. “An apple?” She tilted her head thoughtfully, tapping a fingertip against her lips. A riddle that wasn't a riddle that was a riddle.“That could have several possibilities.” If they couldn't figure out which apple the clue directed them to they could end up walking blindly into danger. “Any thoughts?” She turned it over for the twins to see and gave them a look that said they better have ideas, or else.

“It's an apple.”

“That other clue was words.”

Scyanatha sighed, she would need all her reserves of patience with these two on her team. The demon appeared more helpful, but time would tell. “If the clues were all identical, then it wouldn't be a challenge. Some are written, some are drawn. That is because each of the High Elders, who all have their own methods devised them.” Saying that though, she was sure Culvers wrote none of them; he wasn't the type to make complicated missions even more of a mystery by sending his people into the unknown. “I wasn't asking for your opinion on what the clue is, I was asking if you had any ideas what it meant.”

They looked blankly at her, then Ari drew breath to speak. “It could be the Queen's apple.”

“Or it might be the apple of discord,” Ira offered.

“Maybe it's the silver bough?”

“The golden apple of the world tree?”

“Maybe they mean the golden _egg?”_

Scyanatha's head was spinning. “Enough!” She assumed they were eavesdropping on other teams to get the answers, but it wasn't helping; they had given her more ideas, not less. If this was Phanuel's challenge, as she assumed, then he was very much deserving of a black eye.

“Maybe it's just an apple?” Cuculaiin offered in a quiet voice.

This wasn't a terrible suggestion, and it put her in mind of where they needed to go. “It would amuse Phanuel to picture the Acolytes running to an orchard to pick an apple, so that is where we shall look.”

Cuculaiin's brow fluttered. “It's not an apple? But, if it's not an apple, why would Master Phanuel tease everyone?”

“A double bluff,” Scy shrugged, amused how Cuculaiin referred to Phanuel as “master”. “It couldn't possibly be an apple, so that is the reason it is one.” She motioned for the two sylphs to go ahead of her as she fell into step with red-skinned demon. “It's Phanuel's sense of humour.” She explained to him. “You'll learn. Hopefully, before you end up in mortal danger.”

 

~*~*~

 

“Ow! Ari, stop tripping me!” Ira shoved her sister as they walked along the path.

“I didn't!” she replied.

Scyanatha hid her smile as she nudged the ground beneath them upwards, causing both to stumble this time.

“Something's wrong with this road!” they cried together and stopped to look; it was perfectly flat and even.

“Perhaps something is wrong with your feet,” Scyanatha said with arch innocence.

They looked at her, but her expression gave nothing away. They turned and walked again, being extra careful where they stepped.

“You did that, didn't you?” Cuculaiin whispered, his lips twitching.

“Ira should not have abandoned her team,” Scy replied, resisting the urge to repeat the trick; it would only give her away, and she wanted to draw out their torment for leaving Seth and Vyxen a person down. “They're lucky it was me they crossed and not my brother. He would have burned them to a crisp by now.” _But only if they abandoned Ifrinn or myself._ Oidhan had little love for half-bloods, even if one of them was her husband.

“You're married to a mortal?” Cuculaiin blurted.

“Why do you ask,” Scy replied. She was growing used to her choice of consort being questioned by some older Unseelie, but she couldn't see why it would matter to a demon.

“It must be hard,” he said carefully, “knowing one day he'll die.”

Scyanatha halted and pinned him in place with a look. “Why is that any of your concern?”

“I'm sorry.” He drew back, alarmed. “I just...wanted to know why an immortal would choose to be with someone they're going to lose one day.” The sadness in his eyes and voice showed he meant no insult. “My mother was mortal,” he whispered. “I was only thirty when she died.”

Looking at him, she couldn't even guess how old he was, but if thirty was relatively young, it might be comparable to being a child.

“My father leapt into a lake of fire after,” he added sadly.

Scy's heart broke for the poor boy and she impulsively hugged him, mindful of the large horns on his head. “I'm sorry, that must have been very hard for you.” Cu mumbled his thanks and she released him, noticing Ari and Ira were watching them with wide eyes. “May I help you?” she said to the pair, raising an eyebrow. “Why did you join the Order of Mana?” she said to Cu as the twins turned around and walked again.

“I was alone and didn't want to be,” he replied.

The thought struck Scy this demon was still _very_  young. “You shouldn't be signing up for the hunt,” she said.

“I wanted to make some friends.”

 _Oh goodness, Vyxen and Zercey will adore him._ “You now have one,” was all she said, pleased when he beamed at her.

 

“There's the orchard,” she said, spying the trees. She could see a few other teams already climbing the branches to try to pick apples, and she laughed. “I think they'll be very disappointed when Phanuel disqualifies them.”

When they reached the walled in area, they found that they weren't the only ones who figured out an apple didn't necessarily mean an apple: a brownie and two fae were walking the perimeter, muttering to each other in low voices.

“Our main competition, I believe,” Scy said, smiling at the trio when they noticed her looking.

“What are we doing here?” Ira—or Ari—whined.

“We're searching for a kind of transportation to the correct location.”

“What does that mean?” The twins spoke in unison.

“A portal.” Scy frowned as the pair tittered and skipped off. She flicked a stone at a tree, knocking down a bee hive just as they passed. They squealed in unison and ran around flapping their diaphanous dresses, catching more bugs in the folds, shrieking and causing winds to buffet them and the other teams.

“Bad luck to you,” she said with barely concealed humour, turning to search.

“Scyanatha,” Cu spoke her name hesitantly. “I think I found something.”

She went over to where he crouched by the stump of a tree.

“Is this a clue?” he whispered.

The image carved into the wood was an old one, not something done for the hunt. That didn't mean it wasn't. The clue might belong to Uwe, who was far lazier in his preparation. “Perhaps.” Looking at the image, time and the elements faded though much of it, she could pick out the outline of a woman holding what looked like a piece of fruit over her head. “Well done, Cuculaiin”.

He ducked his head, almost skewering the trunk. “What is it?” He was like a child asking questions, but Scyanatha merely smiled.

“Let's find out.” She reached out and touched it, sensing magic swirling from within. _Yes, definitely lazy Uwe's hunt._

 

~*~*~

 

Standing in front of the towering spire Scyanatha couldn't believe her eyes. “This must be wrong,” she said. “Uwe couldn't possibly have meant the Acolytes to come here.” The circular building went up for several storeys. Statues set back in archways at intervals, breaking up the plain white facade.

“Ooooh,” Ari and Ira cooed, holding their arms out to feel the wind brushing against them. “This is a place of strong magic.”

“Yes,” Scy agreed in a bland voice. “It's Danu's palace.” Why in Las would Uwe have sent them to Danu? Didn't he know the Goddess didn't appreciate games unless she was the one playing them?

“Danu...” Cu tilted his head thoughtfully. “My mother spoke about her, I think.”

“Many do,” Scy replied, shrugging one shoulder elegantly. “She is the Goddess of the Tuatha de Danann.” _My Goddess, and one who is still holding a grudge over my choice of husband._ “At least we can speak to her,” she said, not shying away from the possibility of Danu having demanded inclusion in the hunt; the Goddess's reasons for doing things were a mystery to all at times, even herself.

Ari and Ira skipped ahead, holding hands.

Scy rolled her eyes at the pair, then smiled mischievously, tilting her head and taking in the smaller statues near the ornate doors. She concentrated and, as Ari and Ira drew in front of them, had the swordsman on the left bring his blade down, blocking their path. The duo shrieked, and she giggled quietly as she had the statue on the right sweep his sword over their heads.

“Oh my,” she murmured, making her eyes wide and bringing her hand up to her throat in a gesture of alarm. “You seem to have upset the guards.”

The pair shook, glaring at the statues. They raised their arms and a gale force wind whipped up, sending one of the marble effigies tumbling from its perch. It crashed down and broke into pieces.

“Danu won't appreciate that.” Scy decided she'd done enough and that she'd turn over their punishment to the Goddess who could be very cruel for the smallest, imagined slight. It was the least they deserved.

 

Entering the white, marble tower, memories of the last time she visited assailed Scyanatha. The Goddess held a banquet to celebrate the birth of her son, Dian Cecht. Scyanatha, Oidhan and her parents attended as guests and representatives of the Aos Si. There were many other Unseelie present, and she was both intrigued and wary of the dark fae. Aos Si were considered Unseelie, but they were the more neutral branch; friendly autumn to the cold cruelty of winter that many other fae associated with. On the opposite side of the court were the so-called Seelie fae; those compared to spring and summer though could still be quite wicked when the mood took them. In truth, there was one court and Queen was an honorary title given to Goddesses—because they were Goddesses. They were led by Queen Titania, who was so enamoured of a human playwright she convinced him to add her into one of his plays. She was preening about it for weeks and Danu was getting revenge by hosting the banquet for Dian Cecht; the other queen having no off-spring yet.

Scyanatha thought it very childish of both, but knew better than to say anything out loud. The party was fraught with tension and dangerous undercurrents, and she excused herself as soon as it was polite to do so, taking her brother to escort her as an added precaution.

 

“Which way do we go?” Cuculaiin asked, his voice echoing in the large, empty corridor.

“If the Goddess is here, she will be in her rooms or on the throne,” Scy replied, ruby red eyes flitting about, watching for signs of trouble. There was an oppressive atmosphere as if the very stones of the citadel were weighed down by the knowledge of a terrible event that took place—or was about to. Scy wasn't often struck by an overdue sense of caution, but when she was, she listened to her instincts because they kept her alive. She turned her head, alerted by a sound, but there was no one behind her. “There should be fae here,” she said in a hushed voice. “Servants, courtiers, guards.”

Ari and Ira shivered, their forms wavering. “The wind says we should flee this place.”

“If we do that, we'll lose the hunt!” Cu replied loudly, making them shriek and jump in fright.

“Unless the wind wants to share a good reason for ordering about a flesh and blood being I'll keep going, thank you.” Scy heard the element's opinions on things before through Lerki, so knew it spoke of both good and ill equally. Something happened here, and she was determined to learn what, and why Danu's symbol was in the orchard in the first place. She took the lead. No one stopped them though they turned several times into empty corridors and climbed two long flights of stairs. “This is odd,” she said once they reached the top of the second winding staircase. “Where is everyone?” They should have run into someone by this point; they passed through the public areas where the fae courtiers usually gathered and were venturing into Danu's personal territory. She opened a nearby door and looked in the empty bedroom.

“What's this?” Cu bent down and picked up something that was the size of his fist and pure gold. “An apple?”

Ira and Ari stared at it, then cooed, then glared at each other. “It's mine!” they each said at the same time.

Scy was about to pull her head back out of the room and look, then found she was abruptly shoved inside and the door slammed on her. “What do you think you're doing?” she yelled, banging on the door, as she heard a key turn in the lock.

“Something's wrong with them! I think it's this apple! I'm going to lead them away!”

“Cuculaiin!” Scyanatha pounded on the door. It was made of a faery resistant material thanks to Lady Danu demanding she could contain people in their rooms if they were disobedient.

Silence was the answer to her shouts. She put her ear to the keyhole and could just about hear retreating footsteps and faint screaming. “This is not how I imagined this going,” she sighed, and rose to examine the room in closer detail. The windows were thick glass, but even if she had got one open, she was very high up, unsure if she could find her way to another room along the ledge. Even if that were possible, she didn't know if any room she got into would be unlocked.

This room, however, obviously belonged to a courtier. The furnishings were rich shades of plum and dark wood and had an air of sexuality to them; possibly this was the room of one of Goddess's lovers?

A slow smile crept across her lips; she couldn't have ended up trapped in a better location if she chose it herself. Scy ran her hand over the polished wood surfaces, turning over the question: “If I were a secret passage to Danu's bed chamber where would I be?”

Using her magic to levitate the stones clasped about her wrists she fired them randomly about the room, listening to them ping dully as they hit solid wall. She paused when she heard the sweet echo of a hidden compartment. Glancing to the source of the noise she shook her head at the life-size statue of Danu, set within a recess. “I should have known.” She shook her head ruefully.

The naked Goddess had her arms raised above her head, thrown back with an expression of ecstasy on her face. The likeness was obviously captured during an intimate moment and rendered upright as a visual reminder of her sensuality. It was typical of the pink-haired Goddess, as Scy could recall a similar one in the boudoir of another of her lovers; a pretty courtier with soft brown eyes, curled hair and a sweet innocence. There was a visible dent in the mid-drift where Scy's piece of Jasper struck it. She put her finger against it and the faux marble crumbled to dust, revealing the hollow space inside.

With an exclamation of triumph, she made short work of destroying the flimsy door, rather than waste extra time searching for a way to open it. “I wonder where you lead?” she said with a wry twist of the lips, wondering if the Goddess found a way to get one of her lovers to appear directly in her bed, rather than across from it.

She was about to take a step into the passage when a manacle clamped her ankle. Snatching her leg back and drawing in a sharp breath, she looked down and saw it was a hand. She could see bone and sinew where the flesh partially stripped away. It was a red, bloody mess, giving her no clue what colour the skin was originally. A wet slap made her jerk as another hand joined the first and she realised a live person was trying to crawl out of the dark passageway.

“Here,” she said blankly, reaching down to grab them.

An inhuman scream was the response and her eyes widened as she took several steps back.

“Don't touch me!”

A man hauled himself into the room as far as he could and lay gasping and shuddering on the hand-woven rug. His blood darkened the mauve carpet, turning it black, and Scy realised she knew him as she spied the familiar red coat. “You were in the orchard.” It completely slipped her mind to check where the other trio went after she searched the area. Cuculaiin must have spotted them near the tree stump and focused on that spot after they disappeared through the portal. “You are a Far Darrig,” Scy said in a soothing voice, crouching next to him.

The Unseelie rolled into a ball and cradled his ruined arms, gasping and sobbing silently.

“What happened to you?”

“S-saw the s-symbol,” he stuttered, already going into shock. “D-darrow t-thought i-it wasss t-the c-c-cluuee.”

She guessed as much, but that didn't explain what had shredded his arms. She spied other injuries and knew he wouldn't make it back to Las. It amazed her he made it down the passageway.

“My teammates have all our curatives,” she said regretfully, knowing there was nothing any of them could have done even with the most powerful potion in Phanuel's stock. When she tried to touch him to offer small comfort he screeched at her and scooted away.

“Don't touch me!” His shaking became more erratic. “P-poison,” he whispered.

Scy's eyes widened. A chill went through her. “Where? How?” Her head twisted about, wondering if this was why there was no one around? Were they all lying dead somewhere just out of sight and she hadn't even noticed? She cursed under her breath for not being more cautious. For _not checking properly._

The Far Darrig mumbled something, his shaking already lessening, as his tanned skin turned white.

“Pardon?” Scy was wary of getting too close now, but she had to know what he was trying to say. How could she protect herself if she didn't know what she was up against?

The blood-covered Far Darrig pulled himself up with a wheeze and gasped a single word, then fell back, dead. “Apples.”

 


	7. Shadows Refrain: part one

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nyima and Date are teamed with a foul-mouthed dwarf named Ghenha. Their hunt takes them to a labyrinth with a dark secret in its centre.
> 
> Warning: very coarse language from Ghenha  
> Lyric credits go to Erutan

Nyima blinked as she came to and found herself in one of the rear gardens of the Order. She got up and dusted herself down. The place she was summoned to might as well have been a hole in the ground. There was dirt all over her shorts and top, and she could feel things crawling in her hair. She yanked the tie on her braid, shook whatever it was out, then quickly retied the dark-blue tresses in a ponytail as she walked back to the courtyard, hoping she hadn't missed her name being called.

 

“Nyima uv dra C'Deney,” Culvers said in an uncertain voice. He then turned to the other two High Elders. “Who _are_ all these people? Is this some kind of prank?”

Nyima climbed up onto the platform and said, “You did ask us to write our names down when we signed up?”

“Yeah,” he replied, figuring this was Nyima, though he had only known her as Teysuht. Her raised eyebrows were enough of an answer to make him realise he'd caused this. He laughed and shook his head. “Alright then, _Nyima,”_ he said, silently promising to spend more time with his people.

Uwe eyed the Aetumuh lustily, until she gave him a chilling look that said he was in danger of losing something vital. He sniffed and plunged his hand into the bowl and drew out the next name. “Date Toshiiro?” He looked up from the paper. “You quit, you're not one of mine anymore.”

“For the purpose of this event I retract my resignation.” He stalked past the remaining Acolytes and glared at Uwe. “Do you object?” When Uwe stayed silent, he nodded and went to stand next to Nyima. “It's been some time since we were on a mission together,” he said.

She hummed, recalling they were a good team. “Let's hope our last member is someone equally agreeable.”

“Ghenha Frobedan.” Phanuel's voice was tinged with a dull edge, having spent the morning calling out names without pause.

“You were saying?” Date sniggered.

“Perhaps I spoke too hastily,” Nyima admitted, as the dwarf jumped down from her perch on the wall by using the nearest Acolyte as a post.

“Hey!”

“'Hey' your fucking self,” she shot back, shouldering people out the way until they got the idea to remove themselves from her path.

“Could be worse,” Date said, a smirk touching the corner of his mouth. “Could have been Lerki.”

Nyima's lips turned upwards. “He's very helpful, once you decipher what he's talking about.”

Date, knowing exactly how helpful Lerki could be at times, said nothing. He gestured for the two ladies to precede him off the platform and got a glare from Ghenha for his chivalry.

 

“Is Bracken not here?” Nyima hadn't caught his temper tantrum and was surprised to find Abaddon manning the table instead.

“I think he needed a rest. It's been a stressful day for him,” they said, smiling in the trio's general direction. They were disappointed to be counted out of the hunt due to their injury, but understood in this situation they would be handicapping their team unfairly. They'd been going about tending to any injuries and helping others figure out their clues. They carefully felt for the cards and discarded several, trying to locate a copy of the one they had been giving out.

“We'll just fucking take that one!” Ghenha snatched up the nearest card and strode off, not waiting for the others.

“No, wait,” Abaddon tried to stop her. “Everyone must take the same clue first. It's safer.”

“We'll be all right,” Date said, patting their hand briefly. “It was some kind of riddle Ghenha picked up.” He was confident the trio would come out ok; or, he and Nyima would at any rate.

“Are our teammates part of the trial?” Nyima asked as they hurried to catch up with the dwarf.

Date laughed, then realised she was being serious. “If Phanuel and Uwe could arrange it, yes. I don't know about Culvers.”

“I doubt he'd care, as long as the teams succeed,” she said, having discussed it with the other women in the run-up to the hunt.

Spotting Ghenha sitting on a stone bench, her face screwed up in concentration, Date grabbed the clue from her. “You need a lesson in manners, young lady,” he said pompously.

“Says the cunt who just snatched,” she snapped back.

He pointed his finger and opened his mouth to respond, then held off and glared at her instead. “Let's see what we have here.

 

_Lost in darkest blue,_

_In this labyrinth, sweeving through._

_Will you stagger on, with no star to light your way?”_

 

Date looked up and met Nyima's curious gaze. “It appears we are to hunt a minotaur.”

“Great,” Ghenha cheered, hopping down from the bench. “Let's go bash some fucking heads in.”

“It's not that simple,” he replied.

“Don't fucking care.” She waved her hand at him like he was an annoying insect. “You two better keep the fuck outta my way if you can't keep up.”

Nyima wasn't sure if she should be amused or insulted. “We are senior Acolytes,” she pointed out.

“So are the fucks standing along the wall. Didn't see them racing to be first in line.”

“That's because they're the back up.” Date rolled his eyes. “I thought that was obvious.”

“What do you mean?” Nyima hadn't heard this part, and looking at Ghenha it seemed she was equally clueless.

“If the teams can't complete Jasper tasks then more experienced Acolytes will have to. They've got copies of the clues.”

“Only the Jasper?” It makes sense, Nyima thought. Requests for aid can't be ignored, even if they're being used as part of a game.

“The other hunts are Phanuel's supplies and Uwe being himself.” Date smirked at this.

“So...” Ghenha waited until both were looking at her. “Let's go bash some fucking heads in.”

 

~*~*~

 

Date and Nyima followed Ghenha, neither quite sure what to make of her.

“She's part of one of the crafter families,” Date informed Nyima quietly. “Not that you can tell with that foul mouth of hers. Different castes mine from those that refine materials; Ghenha's family are crafters, putting them in the middle of the hierarchy.”

“Who are above her?” Nyima found this information interesting, though she couldn't understand why the same race would separate themselves from each other in this way. She felt the same confusion the first time Date had explained his family and their relation to the rest of the tengu clans. Her people had a chief because every tribe needed a leader, but they were united; no one's skills were more important than another's.

“Stuck up, lazy cunts,” Ghenha yelled over her shoulder, making them both wince.

“If we are to work together, kindly hold your tongue on words like that,” Date said sternly. “Else I might be tempted to cut it out,” he added under his breath.

Nyima rolled her eyes at this, used to his violent mutterings. “Have you settled well on Earth?” She decided a change of subject would distract him from murderous ideas.

Date hummed and shrugged. “Vyxen's home is in a remote area, and her family are...interesting.” He recalled describing them the same way to Vyxen long ago and chuckled.

“I met her brother,” Nyima said, remembering that Rhovan, Salem and Xyl had come to assist her, Raemina and Imogen on a mission; not that they'd arrived in time to do much more than escort them home. “His sense of humour is very similar to Vyxen's.”

“He's worse,” Date revealed. “I expect Tundra will tell you as much later.”

“Why?”

He slanted a glance at her. “Because Salem was chosen as the Fluorite on his team. Were you not paying attention?” Date knew exactly who was with Vyxen and had been running through a dozen challenges he was aware of that they could successfully complete without serious injury.

“I didn't notice his teammates, no,” she replied simply. She'd kept her eyes on her husband until he was out of sight. He was the only important person up there.

“You talking about that smart-ass Salem?” Ghenha had turned and was looking at them.

“You know him?”

“He's all right,” she said firmly. “Don't treat me like I'm less coz there's less of me.”

“You'll find it's your attitude that's the problem, not your height,” Date replied.

Nyima laughed shortly, drawing a look from him. “I was struck by the similarities,” she said.

Date narrowed his slate eyes at her, but didn't respond. He pulled the clue paper out and looked about, spotting a shimmer out of the corner of his eye. “There,” he said.

Ghenha shouldered past him and went straight through the portal without wavering, impressing Nyima with her decisiveness.

“After you.” Date gestured with a gracious arm movement, waiting for Nyima to enter before following.

 

~*~*~

 

“Anyone got a fucking match?” Ghena's voice came out of the total blackness. Her voice echoed back shortly, bouncing off the walls and ceiling, telling them they were in a tunnel.

“This is why I said it wasn't that simple,” Date sighed, not having thought to bring any. “Nyima?”

Her snort was answer enough. “Did the clue not mention something about the dark?”

“'Will you stagger on with no star to light your way?'” the Tengu recited from memory. “I wonder if light would shine here, even if we had any.”

“Is there a wall nearby?” Nyima waved her hands about and encountered feathers, having caught Date's feather-hair. “I didn't realise you were so close,” she apologised.

He blindly grabbed for her wrist, wondering if perhaps they should have brought Abaddon along after all; they would have been perfect for this hunt. Clamping his three-fingered hand around Nyima's wrist, he felt a milder chill than expected; _I suppose I should be grateful she's not at full strength and able to freeze the rest of my fingers off._ “Ghenha, where are you?”

“Four feet in front of you and two to the left.”

The two Acolytes were silent, in as much shock from the lack of swearing, as the fact she rattled off an exact location in the pitch black tunnel.

“How do you know that?” Nyima said at last.

“I can see. fucking idiots.” She laughed loudly. “You two look fucking stupid.”

“If you can see, why did you ask for a match?” Date shot back.

“For you two,” Ghenha said, like they were idiots. “Dwarves got fucking wicked night vision. This way.” She walked back to them, grabbed Date's arm and tugged.

 

“Do you know where you're going?” Nyima sighed as she was dragged around yet another corner, catching her shoulder and wincing.

“It's a fucking maze,” was Ghenha's unhelpful reply.

“That would be 'no',” Date translated.

“Look, the rhyme said to sweeve, so I'm fucking sweeving.” Ghenha pulled them around another corner and Date clipped his shoulder, swearing under his breath at the sudden pain.

“You're 'sweeving' us into the damn walls!” he seethed. Ghenha paused and he walked into her.

Nyima then walked into him. “A little warning we're about to stop would be nice,” she said in an unimpressed tone as she rubbed her nose with her free hand.

“You didn't just get the flat side of an axe,” Date groaned, screwing his face up.

“Least it weren't the fucking sharp side,” Ghenha shot back. “Look.” She pointed.

“Look at what? We can't –” He bit off the rest of his sentence as he realised he could see something. There was a softer blackness up ahead; light coming from behind the faint outline of a doorway. He opened his mouth then shut it again; Ghenha had been helpful, but she was also a pain in the ass, so he was in two minds to praise her.

“Good work,” Nyima said simply, taking Date's warm grip from her wrist; it was starting to hurt, but she had been in no position to complain.

“Thanks.”

Ghenha's reply was softly spoken and made Nyima blink in surprise. It sounded like Ghenha wasn't used to praise.

“You're welcome.”

 

The group passed through the doorway and waited for their eyes to adjust after being in the dark. When they could see again, Ghenha pointed to a spot on the wall where writing was carved into the stone.

 

“ _Lost in darkest blue,_

_In this labyrinth, sweeving through._

_Will you stagger on, with no star to light the way?”_

 

She looked up at her teammates. “Must've got this far to find the fucking clue, right?”

There was other writing beneath, but it was eroded by time.

“I wonder who?” Date mused, able to come up with several Acolytes that might have found their way before giving up.

Nyima was pacing the room, examining each of the doorways that led off of it. “Three choices, three of us,” she said, though was wary of splitting up the team.

“No,” Date replied, shaking his feathered head. “We should stay together. This is a Jasper mission.” It's the same as the damn Goliath's nest, he thought, cursing for pulling the same type of hunt twice.

“This one's fucking blocked off, anyway,” Ghenha said, leaning through the doorway on their left. “Only goes about twenty feet and then there's fucking rubble everywhere.”

“That leaves two.” Nyima strode towards the words on the wall, peering closely at the faded script, though being illiterate she had no idea what it said. “Date.”

He frowned as he came to join her. “'Shout...the nigh...show the...'” The rest was too faded to read. The pair swapped glances, both trying to figure out what it could possibly mean.

“The labyrinth is in darkness,” she offered.

“A bark could bring down the ceiling,” he replied, seeing where she was going with her thoughts.

“Ghenha.” Nyima turned to see her watching the pair with her head tilted to the side, finding their approach funny. “The other passageways are open?”

“Yup,” she said, having checked them while they were talking. “You're gonna ask me to clear the fucking blocked one, aren't you?” She glared at them. “I'm not a fucking _digger!”_ She spat this last word like it was something foul.

“Then we might as well give up because that's the way we need to go,” Date said, crossing his arms and setting his jaw stubbornly.

“Why?” She could be more stubborn than the bird-demon.

“The person who wrote this left it as a clue what they did.” Nyima gestured to the wall. “It may be luck that brought other Acolytes to this point, but the message can't be about the path we've taken already.”

“Because whoever wrote it meant for it to refer to the path ahead and not behind,” Date finished, his logic faultless. “And if they had found the right path this hunt wouldn't exist.”

Ghenha grumbled something not very nice under her breath about, “Plucking feathers and cooking a fucking chicken,” and stomped off down the first corridor she checked. There was the sound of stones being moved, along with more swearing.

“Can she really do that alone?” Nyima went to assist and was held back.

“Dwarves are natural diggers, no matter how they segregate themselves. She'll have it cleared quickly, but if you get in the way she won't thank you for it.”

“You seem to know a lot about them,” Nyima said, sitting on the floor to wait.

“The Takayama didn't hollow out their own mountain,” Date replied wryly, joining her.

“Of course they didn't.” She rolled her eyes. “More crimes to add to the list.”

“It already runs to several pages.”

Neither wanted to waste more time talking about Date's awful family. The sound of rubble being shifted was a backdrop to their conversation, until he recalled something Nyima mentioned earlier. “How did you not see who Tundra was teamed with? He got that awful pixie woman, whatever her name was.”

“Did you not say there was a possibility of death on these hunts?” she replied with a question of her own.

“Yes, but only if it turns into a disorganised...never mind,” he said, shaking his head, picturing the chaos of clue papers.

Nyima raised an eyebrow and said, “Then why would I waste my time looking at anyone else?”

Date was struck by that; he had spent his time thinking of all the hunts Vyxen could succeed at. Maybe he'd got his priorities wrong. “Well, he's with Salem and the pixie,” he said, shrugging. “I'd check him for marks when you get him back.”

“I shall be very thorough,” she replied blandly, confident any marks on her husband would be from an enemy and not another woman.

“Oi! If you two are done with your fucking coffee break, I've got the passage cleared!” Ghenha's shout echoed back and the duo got to their feet.

“We're coming, Great Majesty of Verbose Discourse,” Date called, rolling his eyes.

 

“I hate when other people are fucking right,” Ghenha muttered, staring down the long, faintly lit corridor she uncovered. She didn't even need night vision for the walls were made of scheelite, a mineral that absorbed light and glowed in the dark. “At least you two won't be doing your blind, fucking beggar routine,” she said. Pair of weirdos, she thought. As long as they did their part and her team won the hunt, then who she was stuck with didn't really matter. _At least they're not making fucking short jokes._

“'Lost in darkest blue',” Date recited, putting his hand to the glowing walls. “This is more like it.”

“If this is what the clue referred to then what was that at the beginning?” Nyima looked at Ghenha who tried to play innocent, but ended up sniggering.

“It was one corridor,” she revealed. “You two thought I could navigate a fucking maze?” Laughter made her bend over and clutch her stomach. “I'm a dwarf, not a fucking popobawa!”

“Glad to see we amuse you,” Date said, holding onto his temper with an iron grip. “Let's just see where this goes. I assume by 'sweeve' whoever wrote it meant for us to take alternate turnings.”

They walked down the corridor until they came to the end. “Left first,” Nyima said. “I suppose the next would be right.”

 

~*~*~

 

The team continued through the labyrinth, taking alternate pathways as suggested by Nyima, until they reached an exit that led out onto a stone bridge. Below them was a chasm, so deep they couldn't see the bottom. Stalactites hung from the ceiling. Across the bridge was a stone doorway.

As Ghenha went to run over she was forced back by a screeching mass that flew up from the darkness. Flapping wings and snapping teeth made her draw her axe and swing it back and forth. “Come on then, you bunch of cunts!” She managed to catch one and it hit the ground in front of her. “Popobawa? The fuck! I was _kidding!”_

The bat-like creatures were only a little smaller than the dwarf, had black, leathery skin, sharp claws and teeth. Ghenha growled at the one she'd hurt and nudged it off the bridge, where it fell down into the darkness. “How we getting the fuck across?”

Nyima looked around, but there was little to see, except: “Those words again.” She pointed across the chasm where the rhyme was carved into the rock face on the far wall. How they got there she didn't know, but it was starting to give her concerns. “Can either of you see what the next verse is?”

“'Shout into the night, show the darkness you will fight',” Date recited. “Ghenha.” he put his hand on her shoulder. “Are popobawa sensitive to sound?”

“Fuck yeah!” she grinned, getting his meaning. “Their ears go pop and they get freaked out. It's how miners drive 'em away, coz they're sick little fucks.”

“Ladies, I suggest you cover your ears.” Date gestured for them to go behind him and waited until they were ready. He then stepped onto the bridge and let the popobawa swarm towards him, as he drew in a deep breath. The force of the sound wave he let out boomed around the cavern, causing a couple of weaker stalactites to crack and drop down silently into the blackness below. The bat-demons became frantic, rebounding off each other. Most ended up tumbling down into the chasm, and the few that were left flapped sadly away to some dark hole.

“You're not so fucking useless after all,” Ghena said, slapping him on the back as she passed.

Date made a short bow. “Your admiration is most humbling to this one.”

Nyima rolled her eyes. “What did you mean by them being sick, Ghenha?”

“They're like incubus, yeah?” She looked at Nyima to see if she understood. “They live in shit holes like this one and attack people in their fucking beds.”

“Then we have done a service already,” Nyima replied with barely concealed disgust. “The fewer of these things in the world, the better.”

 

Once through the doorway on the other side of the bridge Ghenha stopped short, forcing the other two to halt as well.

“What now?” Date asked.

“Can't you fucking hear that?” She was leaning forward, a frown on her face.

“Is that...singing?” Nyima, too, could just about hear a voice in the distance. “I thought we were here to slay a minotaur?” She looked at Date. “That is what you called it, yes?”

“Maybe he took lessons,” he replied, sarcastically.

Both women snorted at this.

The faint melody was very enchanting, Nyima had to admit. Ghenha also seemed taken with it as both females walked towards the source.

“It sounds like the rhyme,” Date muttered, a sense of foreboding making his feathers ruffle. “Maybe it was written as a warning?”

The women ignored him, stepping over trailing vines that snaked across the ground and climbed all around the corridor. Dark, green fronds dripped from the ceiling to brush their shoulders. Date slapped them away in annoyance, but Nyima and Ghenha didn't seem to notice. Not even when the vines left a lingering trail of clear sap on them.

 

The singing grew clearer as they drew near. The voice was accomplished; a deep baritone with a slight lilt, as though the singer had an accent.

“We need some kind of plan,” Date said, annoyed at the silent women. “We can't just go wandering in there and ask the monster, or whatever it is, to kindly impale himself on our swords.”

“Hmm?” Nyima blinked a few times and shook her head. “Yes, you're right, of course.” She wasn't usually so taken by singing. There were few songs of her people, but most were sung by the faithful: servants to the four Goddesses. “Do we have any idea what it is yet?”

“Vines, singing, popobawa, a labyrinth dungeon.” Date quietly listed everything they had encountered. “That rhyme, though. What is that?”

“It's very beautiful,” Nyima admitted, tilting her head to listen to the song. “Where's Ghenha?” She looked for her and saw her standing in a doorway. “Ghenha, wait!” Nyima ran towards her and felt her feet slowing as she became captured by the lovely voice once more.

Both women entered the chamber, heedless of Date yelling for them to stop. He paced, rapidly trying to think of something to do that didn't involve blindly diving into danger to follow his two teammates. In the end, he came up blank and, swearing loudly, bolted after them with his daggers drawn, ready to fling them at the monster.

 


	8. Intermission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With all the teams in peril it's time for a short break and check back in with the High Elders of the Order of Mana. Short story: They're not happy.

Culvers, Phanuel and Uwe were in the Jasper High Elder’s office. He was standing in front of his desk, Phanuel was staring out of the window and Uwe was sitting in Culver’s chair, insolent feet on the scarred, wooden table.

Culvers knocked Uwe’s feet off his desk. “Do it in your own room, not mine,” he said for the umpteenth time. At the sound of the doorknob turning, he turned to greet High Elder Trenfal. “How many of the teams are back yet?”

“A few. Some are unaccounted for still. Abaddon and Bracken are making a list of names now.” He levelled Phanuel with a steady gaze and coughed when he went unnoticed. “I believe the reason would be because someone wanted tea?”

“You said give them things to do, and it would come in handy.” His grin was huge, yet lacking in something. “If only so Uwe can use it to erase his conquest’s memories the next morning so they don’t recall what an ass he is.”

Uwe growled under his breath. “Using the hunt for your own personal gain is so you, Phan.”

“And what about you?” Culvers thumped Uwe’s foot.

Uwe put his feet on the floor, hiding a wince. He didn’t put them back on again.

“You think Bracken didn’t notice that little list you added?”

“At least it made sense!” Uwe argued. “I didn’t give everyone stupid riddles to follow and no warning about the monsters they’d face!”

“I didn’t write the clues!” Culvers yelled back. He glared at Trenfal, who shrugged.

“It’s tradition.”

“Tradition,” he spat. “Tradition will get half our people killed.”

“Then they weren’t worthy of being in the Order in the first place,” Phanuel said in a frigid tone.

This shocked the other three. “Phan, what’s going on with you?” Culvers noticed him putting on an act for most of the day, pretending to be his usual, carefree self.

“Feeling guilty?” Uwe chuckled.

“Hardly.” He went back to staring out the window which was facing towards the coast. The sky was a dazzling shade of blue, only seen during summer afternoons. “I need some supplies more quickly than others and this mix-up with the clue papers may have cost me something vitally important.”

“You’ll have everything sooner or later. I just wish that liubul’k hadn’t knocked over the crate of Ra-bees and sent messages across Las about the hunt.” He eyed Phanuel’s back. “Why did you have them, anyway?”

“Left overs from Zahhak’s time,” He replied with a shrug, referencing the previous Fluorite High Elder. “Took me ages to clear all that honey up.”

 

There was a knock at the door and Bracken and Abaddon entered. “We have the list of Acolytes who’ve arrived back already.” He handed the parchment to Trenfal, who scanned it quickly.

“About half are still missing,” he said, echoing Culvers’s assumption. “Most are recruits, but there’s a few second and third years still unaccounted for.”

Abaddon frowned, worried; a few of those missing people were their friends. “The hunts,” they said, pausing until they sensed they had everyone’s attention, “if only one team goes will they come back?”

Uwe shrugged, not caring Abaddon couldn’t see the action.

Culvers glared at him again. He went over to Abaddon and put his hand on their shoulder in silent comfort as he looked at Bracken. “Do you have a list of the hunts that are complete?”

Bracken nodded and produced a second parchment. Pushing his glasses up his nose he read aloud. “The firebird feather was a success, though we’re now running low on burn ointment. The Cintinmani stone ended up broken in the retrieval, but we have all the pieces, I think.” He then shuddered as he read the next line, “The hand of Glory is sitting in the laboratorium––Uwe you’re disgusting. The hunter’s apple was eventually brought back, but a few Acolytes fell out of the trees in the orchard because of the way they worded the clue.” He glared at Phanuel, who had his back to him. “Several minor monster hunts confirmed complete by the villages who requested aid, but the mid-level ones are still mostly in progress.” He went on in this way until he reached the end of the list.

“What’s missing?” Trenfal was trying to recall, and then Abaddon handed him a parchment. He scanned it, eyes flicking to the one Bracken held and mentally off those that matched. “Apep, Meng Po’s tea.” He looked at Phanuel, who’d turned to face the rest of the room again. “That was the most reckless thing you could have done. You know what Meng Po is like.”

He shrugged. “You said give them challenges, and that’s a challenge.”

Even Uwe shook his head at that. “Do you know how many pretty Acolytes I’m going to lose through that hunt?”

Culvers growled and went to smack him around the head. “That’s not the point!”

Trenfal cleared his throat and waited until he had their attention again. “Thank you. What else? What’s this flower you wanted, Phanuel?”

“A healing herb, it only grows on Mu.”

“Mu’s been a desert for years,” Abaddon said. “Nothing grows there anymore.”

“This does,” Phanuel replied.

Abaddon put Phanuel’s certainty down to it being, “Illthdar,” as Vyxen would say.

Trenfal tallied the hunts again. “All right,” he said as he got to the end of the list and saw two-dozen hunts left. “These are all mid-level missions, so even with a small team and minimal backup they should be fine.” He looked at Abaddon and took in their relieved smile. “Whoever you were worried about I’m certain they’ll come back without even a scratch on them.”


	9. A Team of Two: Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Seth, Vyxen and Zercey vs the great and terrible snake of Chaos: Apep. Who will be victorious and who is the strange lady speaking to Zercey in her dreams?

_Ok,_ Zercey quickly listed her friend’s strengths and weaknesses, _Seth is strong and has an axe, but that makes him slower, and he’s injured already. He also can’t use his magic. Vyxen only has a knife, but she’s quick and agile, and don’t forget stubborn as all get out. Me?_ She paused. _I have a bow and arrows, my aim is fair_. She assessed the snake which was still mostly inside the well, the upper half sticking out and partially bent back on itself. The flat head was easily large enough to suck Seth down whole, without the added gape of its mouth. The fangs: six feet long and dripping some kind of acid. _But,_ she reminded herself, _it’s blind and relying on hearing and smell to find us._

The longer they waited the more snake appeared to fill the surrounding space. _How do you kill a snake?_

“Go for the head!” Seth yelled, giving an answer to her unvoiced question.

The reptile’s reaction was lightning quick. It snapped round and darted towards him, jaws wide.

Seth’s counter was far too slow to save himself.

Zercey rapidly notched an arrow and pulled back the string, letting it fly with barely time to aim. “Chew on this!” It pierced a spot just above its upper jaw, the arrow sticking out like a toothpick, distracting it long enough for Seth to dive out the way.

 

“AHHHHHHHH!” Vyxen threw herself at a section of the body and slammed her father’s hunting knife in deep, dragging it down with all her strength. She yanked the blade out and turned her head when thick, black blood sprayed over her. She pulled a face and retched at the stench. The snake shoved her aside as the coils tumbled over each other, twisting up and around into a knot, protecting the injured section. This brought the final part out from inside the tree.

Vyxen charged again, no thought in her head except, _stab the snake!_ The rattled-tail slammed into her, lifting her off her feet and throwing her hard into the far wall. The wood cracked under her back from the force and she fell to the ground, dazed.

“Vyxen!” Zercey’s scream drew the snake, and she backed away, notching arrows one after the other and firing them blindly. Most flew wide, striking the branches of the tree and making it tremble, but some found the correct mark, peppering the reptile’s face and body and drawing more black blood. “Seth, hurry if you’re doing something!” She spotted his orange hair out of the corner of her eye as he moved behind the coils.

 

Seth stepped quietly into what would be the blind spot if the snake wasn’t already impaired. Having grown up around poisonous reptiles in the desert, he knew a snake never thought to look behind it. That was the way they’d kill it, not with a full frontal assault. He stared at the papery scales, dried out from being trapped in the dark with little to feed on. He didn’t have the height to get enough force behind his swing to cut it in two. He needed to get above it somehow. Feeling the roots pressing into his back, he glanced up. _That’ll work._ His smile was grim.

 

Zercey’s back hit the opposite wall; she’d run out of room. “Seth,” she whispered, eyes widening as the snake drew itself up and struck, jaws gaping. Instinctively, she thrust her bow forward with both hands and ducked as fangs came down. She felt acid drip on her arms, smelt hair and flesh burning. She yelped and let go of her weapon, diving to the side. A short snap and that was the end of the bow, but it lasted far longer than she would have guessed. “Seth!” She looked for him, but he wasn’t anywhere. Vyxen was nearby, just coming around. “Vyxen, stay quiet!” Zercey was intentionally being loud to keep attention on her.

 

Vyxen woman bit back a groan and rubbed her back, brushing off a few shards of wood stuck to her. She clutched her knife and drew it to her chest, taking comfort in it. Looking up, she spied Seth far above them, hanging upside down from a thick branch, axe poised, but the snake was too far forward for a killing strike.

 _Gotta make it back up,_ Vyxen thought groggily. She drew in a deep breath and reached out with her mind for the snake. A sharp pain in her head made her wince as she met resistance, but she pushed on through. There was a popping sensation and then suddenly it was like she was drowning in mud; the reptile’s thoughts were dark and vicious.

_We shall devour every last speck in Las after these ones! We shall drown the world in darkness and blood! We shall make the ground tremble beneath their feet! We shall –_

“Talk about ego,” Vyxen said to herself, squeezing her eyes shut and imagining the snake as being smaller than herself. She pictured grabbing it beneath the head and held on tight.

 _What is this?_ It thrashed about, body slamming into Zercey and pinning her against the wall. Zercey extended her weakened arms out, trying to stop the snake crushing her. She was running out of air and the sheer weight was like trying to push a freight train with its brakes on.

“Get back,” Vyxen grunted with effort, mentally forcing the snake to shift until it was poised beneath Seth. She could feel her strength giving out against the reptile’s brute force. “Seth, now!”

 

With bright, red blood slowly trickling down his arms and making his grip slick, Seth’s brilliant idea of climbing up the cage of tree roots fell short when he’d found himself hanging upside down with no way to reach the reptile as it slithered away from him. He’d barely been keeping from falling when the oddest sight of the snake fighting itself drew his eye. The second it was in range he dropped, letting the weight of his axe speed his descent, twisting so the wicked sharp blade was in line with a spot just where the first vertebrae began. It was like a hot knife slicing through butter if butter was an enormous snake that spilled gross stuff all over him. He landed easily enough, but then had to dive out the way as the head and body tried to brain him when they both collapsed. The former rolled over a couple of times and then came to rest. The latter thrashed about a bit more and knocked everyone to the edge of the sycamore tree’s cage before finally stilling.

 

“I need about a million showers after this,” Vyxen said, literally sagging where she sat down. She sniffed at her clothes and coughed. “It’s like a cross between skunk and jam.” She rubbed the sticky, congealing blood between her fingers and made gagging noises. _“Gagwaanisagendan!”_

“I can’t believe they gave us a riddle and didn’t warn us we’d be up against a giant snake!” Seth ran his forearm over his head, flicking off sweat and smearing blood on him instead. Splinters still covered his arms and the salt stung. A dull rattling sound rolled away to the edge of the platform, signalling the snake’s tail was severed, as he finally cut it from the body. They were bloody, dirty and tired—no, make that _exhausted—_ but couldn’t head back to Las without proof they’d killed the damn thing.

“How come you didn’t know what the hunt really was?” Zercey asked mutely. She was resting against the roots of the tree, arms propped on her knees, trying to ignore the throbbing acid burns as she applied the tiny bit of ointment they’d scrounged up between their meagre supplies; having someone from the Fluorite Order along made more sense now.

“I was too young to take part last time. Ykhar wouldn’t let me.” One side of his mouth lifted as he remembered the outrage on the borrower lady’s rabbitesque face when she flatly refused to let him join. “Wish she’d stepped in this time, too.”

“Didn’t grumpy birb do his ‘prophecy of doom’ for you?” Vyxen flopped onto her back, arms outstretched, trying to ignore the pain in her mid-section. She thought a couple of ribs might be broken, but was too exhausted to check.

“Yeah, but you know what Toshiiro’s like; sometimes it’s hard to tell when he’s mocking and when he’s being serious.” Seth was regretting not paying closer attention to his friend’s tone. He looked up at the burnished sky and sighed. “No way we’re getting down to the ground tonight. It’ll be too dark to see and I, for one, don’t trust this tree not to throw us off like it tried earlier.”

“She was trying to protect us,” Zercey murmured. “She thought we’d get hurt if we took on Apep and wanted to drive us away.”

“How the fuck do you know that?” He looked over at Zercey, but she was asleep. “Vyxen, you still awake?” Silence. “Great. Stuck inside a tree with a giant, dead snake and two women who aren’t my wife.” He went as far away as he could get from the reptile’s corpse and leant back against the tree, sliding down slowly and propping the handle of his axe against his shoulder. He told himself this wasn’t camping as he tried to get comfortable. His nightmares weren’t as frequent as they were before he shared a bed with Scyanatha; her presence next to him kept him calm and relaxed most nights, but there were still occasions when he woke with a start, drenched in sweat and seconds from raining fire down on their heads. Those times Scy wrapped her pale arms around him and crooned into his ear in Gaelic. He didn’t know exactly what she said to him, but it was comforting and he felt the love behind the words she spoke, gathering her to him and settling back down to sleep more easily.

Seth sighed, crossing his fingers he wouldn’t have a nightmare in this place, then remembering he couldn’t use his magic anyway, so at least that was one problem he didn’t have to worry about.

 

Zercey could hear someone calling her name. She opened her eyes and sat up, noticing at once she was still inside the sycamore tree, with the coils of the snake sprawled in a heap across most of the caged-in space. The well’s hole was still in the middle, somewhere, but she didn’t think this was where the voice came from. Her friends were sleeping, their forms painted in negative shades of black and white. “Am I asleep?”

“You are in the in-between.” The voice that spoke was gentle, yet tired. “I wanted to thank you, but you did not seem to hear my words before.”

“Vyxen never said the in-between looked like this. Where’s the falling crap from a million different realms?” Zercey blinked as a woman stepped out from behind the corpse of the snake. She was tall and willowy, her skin nut brown, but with an ashy undertone, as if she were ill. Her eyes and hair were a shade between yellow and green and she wore robes of white with small green flowers and samaras seeds painted across them. “You’re the spirit of this tree?”

“Yes,” the woman smiled. “Isis. The demon, Apep, has been in my keeping for many centuries.”

“They sent us to kill it,” Zercey explained. “You didn’t want us to?”

“It concerned me Apep would be too great an adversary for you.” She drew in a breath and closed her eyes briefly. “His poison is necrotic.”

Zercey’s gaze went to her arms.

Isis inclined her head, understanding. “You must take Apep’s blood and boil it with the bark of my tree until it reduces down to a paste. This you must smear over the wounds.”

“What about you?” Zercey realized the snake had slowly poisoned Isis the whole time she was acting as his jailer. That was why nothing grew around her tree and why she hadn’t been able to prevent the team from climbing to the top. In the end, the only help she could offer was closing them all in.

“My time is passing. I will travel on the wind to wherever it takes me. I may find fertile soil, I may not.” She shrugged. “It is the way.”

 

 

“Wakey wakey, sleepyhead!” Vyxen shook Zercey roughly and then groaned when she jostled her own injury. “Ow ow ow!”

Zercey’s amethyst eyes opened, and she found they were wet. She sat up and wiped them and saw it was close to morning. “How did we sleep with that thing next to us?”

“Exhaustion,” Seth replied, getting to his feet and stretching, pleased to have had a nightmare free rest. “I’ve seen it happen loads of times. Tundra and Toshi are like that,” he snapped his fingers, “when it’s time to rest during a battle. You train your body to sleep when you get the chance and don’t question what might share your bed.”

“There’s something we need to do before we leave.” She told the others about her dream and showed them her arms, which had swelled and oozed a little.

“I thought I smelled bad,” Vyxen quipped, trying to hide her worry and carefully giving Zercey a hug. “I’ll get the stuff. You sit your butt right there and don’t move.”

“Yes, ma’am,” she joked back.

“So, the tree was trying to help us?” Seth moved to sit next to her and checked Zercey’s wounds for anything that shouldn’t be there.

“She didn’t want Apep to hurt anyone else, but couldn’t hold him much longer.” Zercey’s brows pinched, and she looked at the tree, which had opened out with the dawn, revealing the rest of the forest and a small village in a clearing to the north.

“Where’d that come from? I don’t remember a village in the forest.” Seth frowned.

“Ok!” Vyxen slowly made her way back over, carrying the bucket from the well which somehow survived. “I got blood and bark. Let’s go back to Las and get you fixed up before your arms drop off.”

Seth groaned as he got to his feet. “Oh, this is gonna be fun climbing down.” He didn’t relish the descent with Zercey having injured arms, Vyxen with busted ribs and himself with half the tree still embedded in him.

There was an ominous creak beneath their feet and the trio swapped looks.

“What was–” The floor gave out, and they fell down inside the tree, swept along one of the massive branches until they landed in a heap on the ground several feet away from the trunk.

The bucket made it down spilling none of its contents, and caused Vyxen to mutter, “Illthdar,” but for once in an amused way.

“Thank you, Isis,” Zercey said, with only a small amount of sarcasm, as she and the others got up. She awkwardly patted a branch and then turned to Vyxen and Seth. “We should make for that village we saw and see if they can help with boiling this stuff up.” She didn’t want to rush them but it felt like her arms were about to explode, and she thought she might need them for useful stuff like being somewhere to keep her watch...and wearing jackets would be much more difficult too, the sleeves would flap about, unless she pinned them up, but she’d need a hand to do that. Zercey giggled at the thought and Vyxen and Seth swapped concerned looks.

“Come on, Zerce, let’s get us all fixed up.”

 

 

It was slow going to the village, what with Vyxen’s broken ribs and Zercey slipping into a state as the poison did its work. In the end, Seth had to carry her over one shoulder and hold his axe with the other. The whole time Zercey was muttering and moaning as Vyxen chatted to her about meaningless things, trying to keep her conscious. She stumbled a few times with her bucket, but didn’t complain once about being in pain.

“Finally!” Seth cheered as they reached the village. “Anyone around!”

Some doors to the houses opened and a few rodent-like faces appeared. “What do you want?” one whispered.

“We’re from Las,” Seth put Zercey down and steadied her when she went to topple sideways. “We got a request from someone about a snake?”

This question brought the whole village to life and mouse-people surrounded then in moments. The tallest was still smaller than Vyxen in her bare feet, and there was a mix of rodent features, some more appealing than others. The females seemed to have got the better end of the deal though, with soft, velvety fur, delicate little claws on the ends on their fingers, large round ears and smaller noses and incisors.

“No wonder it worried them about the snake,” Vyxen whispered to Seth, as they called for a healer and took Zercey into one of the houses, along with Vyxen’s bucket. “Will our friend be ok?” she called.

“Should be!”

Not the reply I wanted to hear, she thought with annoyance. After the hell they’d been through, she wasn’t about to lose anyone without a fight.

“Let us help you.” Someone placed a small, furry hand in hers and she looked down to see the most adorable tan coloured mouse-girl wearing a beige dress.

“You are too cute!” she gushed. “I wish you were companions so I could add you to my collection!”

The mice nearest her looked a little worried at this, until Seth shook his head and said, “Don’t mind her, she’s a crazy, mountain lady.”

Vyxen stuck her tongue out at him. “You’ve just jealous coz I’m plus five awesome on the companion scale.”

Seth laughed and shook his head at her.

They led the pair towards one of the houses. “I’m not gonna fit through the door,” Seth pointed out.

“You can sit outside and we’ll bring you hot water and cloths,” the mouse-girl said. “I’ll try and find something to pull out those splinters, but if they’re from Lady Isis’s tree they won’t get infected, anyway.”

“Lady Isis?” Vyxen was curious what the villagers knew about the tree after Zercey told her about the dream she’d had.

Seth sat down on the dry ground and listened through the open window as a bucket and someone passed cloths to him.

 

“You want to know about Lady Isis?” An elderly mouse-woman patted a bench and waited for Vyxen to sit, then went about removing her light armour as if it were an everyday task. “A very long time ago, many more generations back than our people know for certain, Lady Isis was called upon to tackle the Serpent of Chaos, Apep. She was a great and powerful warrior, wielding a glaive that responded to will alone.”

Down to her bra, Vyxen crossed her arms over her chest as the healer prodded her ribs, drawing a hiss from her lips.

“Broken,” the grey mouse said. “Only two on the left side.” She looked up at Vyxen. “You half-bloods are very hardy.” The healer turned to find bandages and ointment for the bruising.

“Isis was _zoongide’e,”_ Vyxen said, interested in the rest of the story.

“I’m not sure what that means, but she was magnificent, yes.” Returning, the healer was about to put the ointment on Vyxen’s skin when she wrinkled her nose. “You have Apep’s blood on you. We have no bath, but Shea,” she called to the mouse-girl, “bring more water from the well, please.”

“Ok, grandmother.” The mouse-girl ran off, leaving the door open.

“Tcha, little ones.” She shut the door. “I can only imagine what the Great Lady was like in her glory, but it is a common bed-time story for our people. Lady Isis found Apep in his nest and the two fought for many days, with neither gaining the upper hand. Then, Apep struck Lady Isis deeply, his fangs sinking into her flesh. She retreated to the safety of her tree to heal and he followed, burrowing down to her heart to kill her.”

Vyxen drew in a breath. “But he didn’t, did he? Or else he wouldn’t have been trapped in the sycamore tree.”

The mouse hummed and opened the door to let her granddaughter back in with the bucket of water, which she tipped into a pot on the stove to heat.

“Isis transformed herself, twisting and turning until the snake didn’t know which way was up and which was down. There was no way for Apep to escape, but Isis was trapped too; forced to hold her tree in a deformed shape while the snake went into a deep slumber.”

Vyxen accepted the hot water and a cloth and washed the worst of the snake blood off, then held still as she had ointment smeared on and her ribs strapped.

“And the snake stayed like that until he felt Isis dying from the poison.”

“Yes,” the old mouse said sadly. “We had no idea the Chaos creature was hurting her still, else we would have sent word sooner. We only hope now that Apep is dead, Lady Isis will recover.”

“It’s not your fault,” Seth called from outside. “Even when we got there, the tree was trying to keep us from helping.”

Vyxen nodded.

“Well.” The elderly mouse shrugged. “You are as fit as you will be with my meagre supplies,” she said to Vyxen. “You, man, how are your arms?”

“I could do with some tweezers!” Seth called back.

“I’m sorry, we have none. You will have to wait until you go back home to get those out.”

He muttered curses and Vyxen snickered as she got dressed again.

“Let’s go check on Zercey.”

 

“Hey, little sister, how you doing?” Vyxen leant against the doorway and then thought better of it when her ribs throbbed.

“Better,” Zercey sighed, showing them her wrapped up arms. “The pus was so gross, but lucky for me, I was unconscious when they drained it so I didn’t see anything.”

“I saw a few mice running out to be sick, so I’d agree it was pretty gross.” Seth pulled a face.

“A couple of them asked if we brought the rattle with us and I couldn’t remember if we had.” Truthfully, Zercey couldn’t remember much of the walk to the village.

Seth swore. “It’s in the tree.”

Vyxen swore also. You mean we gotta go all the way back and get it?”

“Is Apep really dead?” A mouse-man turned from where he was tidying away unused bandages. “If he is, we’ll go get it and you can take the mark back to Las with you as proof you completed the mission.”

“Mark? We’ve got plenty of those, thanks,” Vyxen giggled.

The mouse squeaked a laugh. “No. When the news arrived about the Festival of the Hunt, we made hunter’s marks to give to the Acolytes as thanks.”

“How did you learn about it, anyway?” Zercey pushed herself up on the tiny bed though her legs still dangled off the end.

“Ra-bees brought the message. We had been talking about sending for help for Lady Isis, but this gave us hope that lots of Acolytes would come.”

The part-venin tilted her head and frowned thoughtfully. “Ra-bees,” she murmured. She didn’t think they meant the version she remembered.

“Yes, they’re messengers. These came telling of the hunt.”

Maybe they were the version she was thinking of.

 

A few hours later and, after a meal of bread, cheese and fruit, where they told the villagers how they had killed Apep, the trio felt ready to travel. The elderly healer who turned out to be the village elder, explained that they made the hunter’s marks using discarded branches of the sycamore tree and it would offer them mild protection from poison, if they ever needed it. She then handed them a jar containing a bee. “This will let the Oracle know that you are ready to cross the portal back to Las. Else it would be a very long journey home for you.”

Vyxen took the jar in one hand and a wooden token with the other. It the size of her palm and had a trident carved into it, but two of the prongs were bent inwards. Illthdarian script was etched around the outside edge.

“Valour, Victory, Vigilance. It is the hunter’s code,” the healer said. She then gestured, and the villagers bowed to the three Acolytes.

“Oh, wow, don’t do that,” Vyxen said, getting misty eyed.

“Yeah,” Seth added. “We were just doing what we signed up for.”

Zercey rubbed her hand across her eyes. “I hope Lady Isis recovers,” she said, even though the spirit of the sycamore tree had told her otherwise.

 

The village waved them off and the Acolytes headed back to Las.


	10. Transcendence: Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A fight with ice elementals, a yeti and breaking an entering are just some of the problems Tundra, Salem and Umi face on the latter part of their hunt. Not to mention the minor problem of Umi's bladder issues.

Putting the trekadisk out of his mind, Tundra headed deeper into the cave, footsteps cautious, his ninja training ensuring he made no sound. When the path diverted down three different tunnels, Umi's wisps appeared and hovered by the correct route. He followed them, even though the path sloped upwards. _This better not be a wild goose chase_.

When he exited the tunnel he was on a high ledge in a cavity inside of the cliff. The walls and ceiling had a thick layer of ice covering them. He smiled and inhaled a slow, deep breath, taking the frigid air into his lungs and holding it there for a moment. He could create ice with more ease in this environment, even though his target was immune to its power.

Below were the two ice elementals Aina told the group about. They were arguing and throwing bits of fabric around, each accusing the other of taking something. They weren't the ice elementals he was familiar with. The duo were white as ice, their hair and eyes the same snowy shade. They were wearing as little as his wife did, so at least that seemed true to form.

 _Those cats actually came in handy,_ he thought, as the women's argument grew more violent. Both flung ice in all directions. He hugged the wall to avoid being struck by stray shards. He could see no way down to the ground, although there must be because how else did D'nag and Rhys manage it? There was no time to think; Salem and Umi were on their way.

Tundra formed an ice slide that kept close to the wall and circled the space; the glacians wouldn't know the trio were there until they were on the ground. Most people would have had second thoughts about the mission, but he reasoned orders were orders, and Aina seemed desperate for the blood. She would explain why before she got it or go without.

Landing behind the ice elementals, who were still wrapped up in their fight, Tundra was about to attack when he was picked up from behind by something with a large pair of furry hands.

“Fuck!” It squeezed his ribs, making him bite back a groan. He threw an arm back and shot ice into its face.

The creature bellowed and threw him into a wall.

Ears ringing and seeing spots dancing in front of him, Tundra shook his head and looked up at a ten foot yeti. It had white fur covering most of its body, except key areas around its face and palms of its hands, which showed blue skin. It bared its teeth, gaze going from the two women, who hurried to hide behind it, to Tundra. “So this is what Aina neglected to tell us about,” he groaned, getting to his feet. Whatever the glacians were doing, training wasn't it.

The glint of light hitting an axe blade above told him Salem and Umi had arrived, but the bellowing idiot shouting, _“Naasanaa,”_ was a much clearer warning of him joining the fight.

 

Salem had no idea what to expect when he appeared on the ledge of the icy cavern. He'd been hunting before, but this seemed a little more extreme; beating up elementals to get their blood? Bit tasteless, if he was honest with himself. He was putting it down to it being, “Illthdar”, and the rules being made up as they went along.

Spying the big, hairy beast about to bash up Tundra, Salem didn't stop to think and leapt from the ledge, dropping fifty feet in a few seconds and crash landing on the monster's back, sending them both to the icy floor with a grunt. He rolled to his feet and drew his axe, adrenalin pumping through him. “Yeah, come on!” He swung his weapon and then had to let it go when one of the elementals iced the handle. It flew in their direction and they both squealed and ducked for cover. “Sorry!” he said without thinking. “No, not sorry,” he corrected. “Let's do the kung fu fighting thing!”

Tundra couldn't stop himself from rolling his eyes, but agreed, as he took up a stance and shot off an ice blast to drive the yeti back.

The two glacians screamed with fury and went for the men, as the yeti tried to shake off having half its face frozen. Salem balled his fists and dodged blows, but when the time came to land a punch he hesitated, and had to dive out of the way when she copied Tundra's move and shot ice at him.

“Salem!” Tundra couldn't believe his eyes. He was having about as much luck with his foe, but at least he was hitting her when he got the chance.

“Sorry!” Salem yelled back, wincing. “It's just...she's a girl, you know.”

“She's a girl who's going to put you permanently on ice!” Tundra formed a shield in one hand and shoved the glacian back with it as leverage. “Just pretend she's not a woman and punch her!”

“That's easy for you to say! You're used to being around a half-naked woman all the time!” He kept getting distracted by the bouncy parts, which is when the glacian kept going for him.

Tundra would have replied, but the bellow of the yeti drew his attention and he swore. “Shit. Where's Umi?” He gripped the elemental's wrists to stop her from clawing at him and looked about for a green-skinned pixie.

 

~*~*~

 

“ _We should help,” the first said._

“ _Puh, you go help. I'll stay here, chew on this thing and watch.” The second grinned broadly, flashing his white canines._

“ _I can't go without you.” The first had already resorted to whining._

“ _My heart bleeds for you.” The second's golden eye dipped down to take in the scene below._

_The first blinked a blue eye. “She won't like it.”_

“ _Your threats are empty,” the second snapped._

“ _We will be stuck with the liubul'k,” the first pointed out in a silky tone._

_The second opened his mouth to speak and then stopped. The first had a good point, though he would agree to having his eye plucked out with toothpicks before he admitted it. They did both dislike the liubul'k intensely. “All right. Let's jump on their heads. That usually works.”_

 

A tan-spotted, furry thing fell on top of the glacian's head, as she was trying to twist free of Tundra's grip. The yowling, angry mass of fur started clawing and biting, making her scream and try to fling it off, though Tundra knew from experience once D'nag had a target he didn't release them until he was ready. Why the cat-companion decided to come back and be helpful, for a change, he had no clue, but wasn't about to complain. Seconds later, a black and purple striped trekadisk landed on the other glacian and was digging his claws deeply into her scalp, angrily screeching at the same pitch as the woman beneath him. His method was more lethal, more controlled, and Tundra was almost admiring of Rhys's skill.

With the two females suitably occupied, the two men focused on the yeti. This thing Salem had no problem with hitting as he ran to grab his axe. Tundra knew his ice wouldn't have much effect; the thing was with the glacians, for whatever reason, so it had some resistance to the cold. He spotted a tunnel behind it and decided they were better off cutting their losses before one of them ended up dead; he'd deal with Aina and Umi once they were free and clear.

Icing the ground beneath the yeti, Tundra yelled for the trekadisk to join them. “We're going through it,” he yelled, and charged, sensing Salem following close behind.

Body slamming into what felt like a solid wall of fur, the yeti was put off balance, allowing Salem to knock it back and make it spin around as he barrelled into it. He quickly turned and slashed the beast across the back with his axe, drawing a spray of bright red blood and making it bellow in pain. He then bolted past Tundra and slid to a halt when he saw him stop. “What's up?” he puffed.

“Just covering our tracks,” he replied, as a giant hammer made of ice formed in his right hand. He gripped it tightly and swung it at the ceiling, bringing down part of the cavern and sealing the yeti and elementals inside their cave.

“Neat trick, T,” Salem said, admiring the roughly made weapon. “Needs a bit more style though. Could I pimp it out?”

Tundra scoffed and laughed. “If you want an ice burn, be my guest.” He held the hammer out.

“Rain check?” Salem wasn't stupid.

Tundra shook his head, dropped the hammer and it shattered.

A harmonising of irritated meowing got them moving again, the devilish trekadisk duo leading them down a series of tunnels that opened out on the opposite side of the cove they'd entered by.

 

Once out in the fresh air again, D'nag surprised Tundra by rubbing up against him, but returned to form by snapping its teeth when he went to stroke it.

“That is one screwed up cat,” Salem laughed, as the two companions ran off again.

“It's why I prefer my liubul'k,” Tundra replied dryly, shaking his head; Smoke was trained to a standard that made him the envy of anyone with a mischievous liubul'k. “I'd like to say I can't believe Umi abandoned us like that, but...” he trailed off and scowled.

“Who said I abandoned you!” A squeaky voice yelled in his left ear and Tundra twisted to take in the flickering, green light.

“Umi?”

“Of course, Umi! Who else would it be?” The tiny pixie screamed, buzzing around him like an annoying fly before moving a few feet away. There was a blinding flash of light and she was full size again, smiling wickedly. “Why else do you think pixies are shown as being tiny?” she said, though neither man asked a question.

“We thought you left,” Salem said, not quite covering up his disappointment that she was still with them. “Guess this mission was an epic fail,” he added. He hadn't gotten any blood from the women, though he was splattered with it from the yeti.

Tundra winced. “Forgot about that,” he said. He'd been so caught up defending them from the surprise addition of the furry beast that he hadn't thought to collect any blood from the elementals.

“Good thing you've got me then, isn't it?” Again, no one asked her, but Umi held up the small flask triumphantly, revealing it was full of blue liquid.

“Their blood's blue?” Salem's eyes were wide, though Tundra simply nodded, already knowing this fact. “Cool!”

“Literally,” Tundra replied with a wry twist of his lips. “Nice work, Umi,” he said simply. “We're closer to Las than the other place, so let's get the rest of the ingredients on the list and head back to Aina.” He was also wondering how his wife and friends did on their hunts, so it was a good opportunity to find out.

 

~*~*~

 

Passing through the Sanctuary on the way to Order of Mana, Umi suddenly whined, “I need the bathroom.”

Salem and Tundra were startled from a conversation about what their weirdest dare forfeit ever was and turned to look at the grumbling pixie.

“Can't you hold it?” Tundra said. “We're nearly there.”

“No.” Umi stuck out her bottom lip, petulantly. “Your house is just there.” She pointed towards a cottage in constant shade from several trees.

“How does she know that?” Salem whispered.

Tundra shrugged and gestured for Umi to go ahead. “I have no idea, but I might as well see if Nyima's back yet, anyway.”

 

Opening the door he called out, _“Seha, Yse paehk enaeku!”_ chuckling to himself as he did. “Guess she's not back,” he said with a shrug when there was no reply. “Bathroom's back there,” he added to Umi, who shot past, making him think she had a genuine need to go.

“What language was that?” Salem entered and looked about with interest, going over to admire the weapons on the wall.

“Vaosynlrian,” Tundra replied, going to the kitchen and grabbing them both a drink.”It's Nyima's language.”

Salem's brows rose. “Surprised you'd learn it. Illthdarian's a pain in the ass.”

Tundra shrugged. “Nyima's one is pretty easy.” He paused and added in a faux casual manner, “And she likes hearing it, so it's no hardship.”

Salem snorted. “Yeah, no hardship. Not like you love her or anything.”

Tundra cleared his throat and called to Umi. “You done yet?”

She reappeared with a sly smile on her face. “Yes.”

“Anyone else need to go before we leave?”

“I think we're good here, pops,” Salem snickered.

“Very funny,” Tundra replied, urging them to the door.

“You keep complimenting me and I'm going to start thinking your wife has competition.” Salem batted his eyelashes and chuckled.

“Go join the queue with the other fans,” Tundra said back. “If you're lucky I might give you a brief wave if I spot you in the crowd.”

“Oh!” Salem put his hand to his chest. “That's cold, T. I think you just broke my heart.”

“Cryomancer,” he said with a wry smile.

 

~*~*~

 

Once inside the Order of Mana the group came across Abaddon.

“Hey, Abaddon.” Tundra hailed the demon, who was striding down the corridor, their hands occupied with jars of ointment. “What's the burn salve for?”

“Burns,” they replied with a smile. “A few teams were hurt bringing back a firebird feather.”

“Bet you're glad we didn't pull that one,” Salem chuckled. “Do you guys melt in the heat?”

“Yeah, we're popsicles,” he replied, rolling his eyes.

“What flavor?” Salem grinned.

“What? Vanilla.” Tundra shook his head as Salem snickered, something was obviously amusing him, but Tundra was more occupied with finding out information. “Is anyone back yet?” He directed his question at Abaddon.

“Everyone is still out,” they replied, assuming he meant their friends. “I'm surprised your team is back so soon; did you fail?”

“Epically,” Salem sighed dramatically, not realising Abaddon might think he was being serious.

“Oh, that's a shame. I'll let Bracken know.” They hurried off into one of the rooms before anyone could correct them, leaving Tundra to chase after as he had another question he wanted to ask.

“So, even if we do this hunt we still lose?” Umi growled up at Salem. “Nice going, idiot!”

“Don't you have some fairy dust you can sprinkle on yourself to improve your mood? Or just make you float away to Neverland,” he added under his breath.

“Pixies don't use fairy dust,” Umi spat back. “That is a stupid, half-blood idea that they tell their stupid, half-blood children.”

“Ok, Tinkerbell,” Salem laughed. Umi's level of obnoxiousness was toxic, but he figured if he didn't laugh at her he'd have to hit her, and thinking how well that turned out against the ice elementals, laughing was the better option.

“Don't call me that!” Umi's green skin turned darker and Salem thought that she might be blushing.

“Why?” He pounced on the subject like a trekadisk did a pair of panties.

“None of your business!” she snapped, folding her arms.

He waited, watching Umi try to hide the desperate need to talk about herself.

“Eugh, fine!” she barked, after less than twenty seconds had passed. “Tinkerbell is my grandmother's name, and because she just has to be the center of attention all the time, she went and found a way to be put into some stupid, human storybook! Now, everyone thinks pixies are these cute, little, glowing balls of light that throw fairy dust around to make people fly!” She bared her pointy teeth and growled. “Do I look cute to you!”

“Oh, I don't know, from certain––” He couldn't do it “––no, no you definitely do not look cute,” he said, unable to keep up the joke as he broke out into gales of laughter.

“You see? She made us a laughing stock of the faery world!” Umi curled her fingers into fists, talons digging into her palms.

“Getting along, I see,” Tundra said, returning from his conversation with Abaddon to find Umi in a mood and Salem holding his stomach as he laughed. “Sorry, had to check if Phanuel still had the other ingredients for the potion. He's locked everything up tight to stop Rhovan's liubul'k getting to it again.”

“So what does that mean?” Salem could guess it wasn't good.

“It means we either need to get the key from him, or we need to pick the lock.”

“Or,” Salem slanted a glance at Umi, still thinking about Tinkerbell, “we need someone small enough to go into the lock and undo it.”

“No,” Umi replied snottily. “I will not be climbing inside any greasy locks. You'll just have to get the key from Phanuel.”

 

~*~*~

 

Standing outside the Fluorite High Elder's office, the group decided Salem would be the one to go in, since he was in the Fluorite Order. Beyond that they had no clue where the key was or if they could even get it, but a half-assed plan was better than none. The door was already ajar and Tundra put out his arm out to stop Salem pushing it open, as he cocked his head and listened to the Phanuel talking to someone inside.

“ _...should have been back by now! The amount of people I sent after it, someone should have got it!”_

“ _Calm down, Phanuel. You know if Inari finds out about this you're going to be in a lot of trouble.”_

“ _I don't care! I just need –”_

The door opened suddenly and Trenfal looked at the three Acolytes. “May I help you?”

“I need to speak to Phan,” Salem replied quickly. He was used to thinking on his feet and coming up with excuses to give his mom and grandmother whenever he and Vyxen used to wander home covered in weird stuff, bleeding or missing chunks of hair. “I don't think I belong in the Fluorite Order. I'd be better off changing before I burn the whole place down.”

“I don't have time for this!” Phanuel bellowed. “Unless you've come back with an alchemy item, get lost!”

Trenfal ducked back in the office and said something the others didn't catch. He then came out and closed the door. “Phanuel is under some pressure at the moment.” He patted Salem's shoulder. “Why not wait a few weeks and see how you work out in Fluorite, and if you still want to change we'll bring the subject back up again.” He shooed them away from the door and walked off in the opposite direction.

“Jackass,” Umi muttered, rolling her eyes.

“I don't even want to know why you think that,” Tundra said, drawing in a breath and slowly letting it out again. “Guess we're stuck with plan B.”

 

~*~*~

 

“This is so humiliating!” Umi's squeaky voice screamed from inside the lock to Phanuel's store cupboard. “You two idiots better appreciate everything I'm doing for you! Without me, you'd be stuck!”

“How many times is that she's called us idiots now?” Tundra said to Salem, who was keeping watch at the door. Usually the laboratorium had other Acolytes in it, but most of them were on hunts or infirmary duty, but there was still the chance one might happen by.

“Since we came in here or in total?” Salem replied, snickering. “Guess you can strike her off your fan list now.”

“Thank god for that,” Tundra replied, grinning.

“I don't know what I'm gonna tell my sister though.”

“Why?” Tundra didn't see the relation in subjects.

“About Umi. Her grandmother is Tinkerbell. Vyxen's gonna be so disappointed to learn the real one looks about as cute as a case of herpes.”

Tundra choked out a laugh. “Oh, I see.”

“She wanted to be her when she was little––littler,” he amended with a wry grin. “She had fairy wings and the whole getup. She wanted to be a fairy.”

“She is,” Tundra pointed out. “Just not that kind, which is a bonus if you ask me.” He couldn't see anyone wanting to look like Umi did.

The glowing green orb reappeared and turned back into the full size woman. She was covered in patches of grease and had a foul look on her face. “You're replacing this,” she said, gesturing to her whole outfit. “I can't get it open!”

Tundra sighed; were any of his plans going to go right today? “Stand back,” he said to the others as he brought his hands together and concentrated on cooling the air around him. A golden glow appeared between his hands that turned into a blast of frost that shattered the lock on impact, leaving a small hole behind. “There.” He yanked open the cupboard and started scanning the shelves for what they needed.

“What are we looking for again?” Salem searched his pockets for the list and came up empty.

“Sheut tears, Echidna essence and salt water...which Phanuel seems to have put with the transformation potions.” Tundra reached up and grabbed the bottle, looking at the contents curiously. “Salt water isn't salt water?” He'd have to figure it out later. With the rest of the items stowed in a satchel slung over his shoulder, they hurried out of the Order of Mana and back to where they'd last seen Aina.

 

~*~*~

 

“Yes!” Aina made to snatch the ingredients from Tundra the moment she saw they had them.

Tundra held them out of reach as Salem pulled his weapon on her in a threatening manner.

“Ah, ah,” he said, grinning and shaking his head. “I think Tundra has a few questions for you first.”

Aina's silver-green eyes rolled and she growled, “Make it quick!”

“What's the potion for?” Tundra wasn't going to give it to her unless he knew it was reasonably safe.

“None of your business!”

Salem made a noise like a buzzer going off. “Wrong answer! Try again.”

She hissed and bared her fangs.

Again, Salem made a sound like a buzzer. “Last chance and then we're outta here.”

Tundra did his best not to smirk at this. “You heard him. Now, you can tell us, or we can call it quits.”

When Aina stayed silent, the two men shrugged and made to leave, but Umi snatched the satchel and held it high over her head. “I'm gonna smash every single thing in this and then I'm going to the Order of Mana to tell them what you've been up to!”

“No!” Speeding towards the pixie, Aina grabbed the bag and the two women tussled for it. “I need it!” she said desperately.

Tundra and Salem left them to it, deciding it was better not to step in. After a few minutes of slapping and scratching, Tundra said to Salem in a thoughtful tone, “Normally, Aina isn't so...”

“Crazy?” Salem offered.

“Emotional,” he countered. “Maybe the potion isn't for her?”

“Who would she wanna help?” Salem didn't know her, but from the brief interaction they'd had, couldn't see her having many friends. Then again, she did know Uwe well enough to get him to slip the ingredients list in with the other hunt papers. “Could it be for Ewww?”

Tundra snorted at the nickname, but shook his head. “I don't think so. She was almost sick when his name was brought up.”

Salem had a suspicion about that. “I'd be sick too, if someone suggested I'd sleep with my sibling.” He pulled and face and shuddered to emphasise how gross the thought was. Then he did it again, just in case Tundra missed it the first time.

“Siblings?” They are from the same coven, he thought, though he'd never heard of Uwe having a sister. “All right,” he said as Umi and Aina fell to the ground and started punching each other. The pixie pulled some of the aufhocker's long, silver hair out by the roots, but Aina couldn't return the favour since the Umi was bald. “If Aina is Uwe's sister, who would she be helping, and why would Uwe agree?”

“Conquest?” Salem shrugged. “Should we break them up yet?” He'd got bored of watching the two women beat each other up and wanted to get the rest of this failed mission over with.

“Good point.” Tundra shot off a couple of ice blasts that knocked Umi off Aina and froze the latter's foot to the ground. “Ready to answer yet?” He picked up the satchel and checked the contents were still undamaged.

“It's none of your business!” Aina panted, almost in tears. “I just need it!”

Even after all that, she refused to say. “All right. Let me put it another way. Is the potion going to hurt anyone?”

“No! No, I promise it won't!”

She seemed sincere, so Tundra made a decision and released her from the ice, standing back and not offering his hand to help her up.

She nodded her thanks at this and took the satchel. “Thank you!” She turned and was gone in a blink of an eye.

“Well, that was anticlimactic,” Salem chuckled. “Wonder what she wants the potion for?”

“I doubt we'll ever find out,” Tundra replied, indicating they should get back to Las.

“Hey! What about me, you stupid jerks!” Umi screeched as they walked away, having been frozen to a tree and forgotten about.

“It'll melt in a couple of hours,” Tundra called back, figuring this was just punishment for leaving him and Salem to fight alone in the cavern; not to mention insulting them both and his wife.

“That's cold, T,” Salem quipped, laughing.

“That's karma,” he replied.

 


	11. Shadows Refrain: Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Date, Ghenha and Nyima battle a trauco: a nasty male siren who likes kidnapping women and encasing them in leafy cocoons. This one didn't take into account Date's resilience, Ghenha's aim or Nyima's ice fury.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lyric credits go to Erutan

Date slid to a halt before he tripped over a knot of vines. He took in the high-ceilinged chamber with more vines clinging to it, along with a bunch of fat, green pods hanging down and dripping the same clear fluid that had coated Nyima and Ghenha. _Where are they?_

“ _Share with me your tears, all your troubles and deepest fears...”_ The voice trailed away and hummed the rest of the verse, then stopped. “A man? Your kind rarely get this far.”

At the rear of the room, up a small set of stairs, on green tendrils twisted into the shape of a throne, squatted an ugly creature, with maroon-coloured hair and piercing lavender eyes. His dark skin was dirty and his face looked like someone had punched it several times until it flattened out.

Date’s lip curled, as he brandished his daggers. “Where are my teammates?”

“You mean the ones who came in a moment ago?” His small smile revealed a set of fangs. There was the tiniest of hand movements and Date sensed danger too late. He yelled as a clutch of vines wound about him, trapping his arms and wings against his body. A sting in both hands numbed them. He tried to hold on to his daggers, but they dropped to the ground. The vines lifted him and whisked fifty feet across the room to hover in front of the creature. “Here they are,” he mumbled, fluttering his fat fingers.

More vines descended, bringing with them Ghenha and Nyima, who appeared to be asleep.

“Wake up!” Date struggled against his bonds. It was a weak effort as his body became paralyzed.

“They cannot. My song is most enchanting.” Another smile and he flicked his maroon hair back. “It doesn’t work on men, but the popobawa prefer them, anyway.”

“You’re working together,” Date spat, feeling bile climbing up his gullet at what that implied.

“The popobawa go to the village and bring a man back, unless they get hungry.” The creature chuckled and the vines around the room shifted. “The woman is always so brave, so bold,” he sighed. “She shines like a star in the midnight sky and I must have her. She comes to rescue her love and my song makes her fall in love with me instead.”

“They don’t love you!” He looked at Ghenha and Nyima again, who appeared more drugged than in love. He had enough information to figure out this hunt was for the demon, trauco. A male siren was a rare thing, mostly because they were so ugly, but also because they were evil little bastards.

“This little one has the sweetest, button nose.” The trauco tweaked Ghenha’s nose and Date wished she was aware so she could’ve bitten the digit off. “And this one, lovely.”

“Nyima, wake up!” He could only stare as the trauco caressed Nyima’s cheek. “I won’t let you touch them!”

“They want me to,” he replied, grinning. “Can you not see how they love me?”

“No!” What could he do? Stay wrapped in these vines, forced to watch as he failed someone else? The vines shivered as Nyima’s breath misted onto them. _Plants hate the cold._ Date knew there was a solution, but only if Nyima were conscious enough to use her magic. He had no weapons, only words. _What to say to wake her?_

“My other pretties, I grew bored with so quickly.” The trauco toyed with Ghenha’s long, blond plait.

Date’s gaze travelled up to the pods; _it caught more Acolytes?_ “The maze, someone blocked it off.”

The trauco giggled and rocked from side to side, dislodging some of his victim’s belongings from beside his throne that tumbled down the steps. “The popobawa block it off whenever anyone clears it. My loves must prove themselves if they wish to feel my divine embrace.”

“Foul touch, more like,” Date muttered, peering at the mess of things on the floor. Among them was a face mask, like the one Tundra occasionally wore. “You give men to popobawa,” he said, looking at the Trauco. “Was one a ninja?”

“There was one of those, yes! Leapt about like a frog, he did!” The Trauco clapped his hands. “But, then he died. It was so sad,” he added, not sounding it in the slightest.

“What?” Nyima’s mumble was barely within Date’s range of hearing. She took several short, sharp breaths, frost expelling from her mouth and lingering on the vine, making it shudder. “Died?” She opened her eyes and turned to look at Date.

“Did the ninja say his name?” Date was as worried as she. He hoped Salem’s body wasn’t lying in some hole back in the cavern of bat-demons. “Was it Tundra?”

The trauco laughed and bobbed on the throne.

“Jingyi is...dead?”

The trauco widened his eyes. “You should sleep, my beauty.”

Nyima breathed rapidly as though she couldn’t catch her breath. She then became still and there was a significant drop in the room’s temperature. “What is this thing?” she said in a cold voice.

“A trauco. It wants to...you know.” Date waggled his eyebrows.

Nyima’s crystalline eyes scanned the vines and took in her teammates, the enemy and the pods hanging from the ceiling, dripping fluids everywhere.

“Oh, my lovely, you are so very lovely.” The trauco manipulated the vines to bring her closer. “So beautiful. I must have you.”

“You will have something of me, yes.” She gripped the vines holding her and they turned to ice, the chill spreading out back along them until they reached the source. The thick stalk shattered, dropping her to the ground.

“No, no, what’s this?” The trauco leapt about, trying to keep the plant from dying.

The vines holding Date and Ghenha shattered, and they dropped to the ground.

“The fuck,” Ghenha groaned, coming round.

“Nyima.” Date looked at her and she returned his gaze with one that embodied frost. “That’s enough, don’t use anymore mana. We can kill it without magic.” He could already feel the paralysis wearing off.

“No” she replied coldly, already reaching to touch another green frond and turning it to ice.

Date frowned. “What? Why?”

“If Jingyi is dead, then–” she paused, a look of anguish passing across her face.

“We don’t know that. He could be in one of those.” He pointed up to the hanging pods.

Nyima followed his finger up and then looked at what was holding them up. “Very well,” she said, striding quickly towards a large plant pinned to the wall. Frost spread out beneath her fingertips and ran along it, up and over the ceiling, touching the pods one by one until they were all covered with a glacial layer. They then broke free and dropped to the ground, crunching on impact into a snowy mass, revealing the Acolytes inside.

 

Ghenha, meanwhile, was up and bounding across the icy floor towards the demon, axe swinging. “Try and fuck with me, will ya!?”

The trauco backtracked, leaping over frozen vines and sliding across the ice, tripping and stumbling, trying to gather breath to sing and put the women back under his spell. The little dwarf he’d thought so cute wasn’t cute at all, she was an axe wielding maniac!

Roaring with all her might, Ghenha whirled her weapon over her head and launched it at him. The trauco ducked, but the spinning blade caught the top of his head, scalping him. He staggered to his knees and clutched his head as things slopped out and splattered on the ground.

“You nasty little fucker.” Ghenha stormed past him, picked up her axe and turned to face him. “Still think women are fucking into you?” She got close to his face and then spat at him.

“ _Lost in darkest blue...”_ the trauco sang, but whatever part of him that made his voice heavenly and enchanting was most likely on the ground by his knees; his voice sounded awful.

Ghenha smiled grimly. “Guess you won’t be pulling that fucking trick.” She raised her axe high, then thought better and replaced it on her back. The trauco was fat, ugly, and powerless; a bit like her dad whenever her mom was shooing him out her kitchen. She laughed unkindly and walked back to where Date and Nyima were checking the open pods for survivors. “Any of them still fucking breathing?” She accidentally kicked the face mask Date thought was Tundra’s.

Nyima picked it up. “This isn’t his.” She held it out for Date to see the markings on the front. “It’s green.”

Date breathed out in relief. “The damn thing must’ve been lying.”

Putting her hand to her chest, Nyima breathed in and out slowly.

“Are you all right?” Ghenha touched her arm. “You look like shit.”

Nyima nodded, amused. “Yes, thank you. A broken heart is a human cliché, but for some it’s a very real affliction.”

 _A broken heart?_ Date knew various species of fae suffered the same weakness and it wasn’t something to laugh about. “Are you all right?”

“It’s repairing, but I’ll feel much better once we’re back in Las,” she replied, thinking of Tundra. “I’m never doing one of these hunts again.”

“That’s the common sentiment,” he replied, wryly.

“You won’t be doing anything again!” The trauco launched himself at the trio. He’d put the top of his head back on and wrapped vines around it like a turban to keep from losing the rest of his mind. He had a knife crafted from thorns in his hand and went straight for Ghenha.

“Fuck off!” She turned her back, and the knife clanged against the flat side of her axe blade. She then spun and punched him in the head, knocking him out. He tumbled, unconscious, across the floor, his vine turban unrolling. The top of his head came off and green goo slopped out onto the floor.

“You really didn’t need us along,” Date commented, impressed despite himself.

“I wouldn’t have got across the fucking bridge without you,” she said back, surprising him with the compliment.

“Persistent, isn’t it?” Nyima directed them to where the trauco was already up and scrabbling about, scooping up bits of himself and plopping them back inside his skull. How he was still alive was anyone’s guess, but she thought it more kind to put him out of his misery. “Collect the Acolytes and leave,” she said.

“What you fucking doing while we’re playing nursemaid?” Ghenha argued, though she was already moving to one of the few survivors nor drained of life, nudging them to stand.

Date had an idea about that and shook his head. “You’ve used too much mana already, and you’re injured.” He moved past the women and inclined his head. “Allow me.”

Nyima shrugged and went to help one of the other Acolytes. There were a half-dozen alive of the dozen pods hanging from the ceiling; a mix of fae and half-bloods and all female. The group supported each other out of the room, leaving Date to finish the trauco.

 

“I said I wouldn’t let you touch them,” Date commented in a bland voice. “Of course, what I should have said was _they_ won’t let you touch them.” He scanned the room, looking for the true root of the trauco’s power. A twitch of movement from the throne made him shake his head. “Of course,” he muttered, rolling his eyes.

He flapped his wings and leapt up, giving him enough height to glide over the frozen floor towards the throne.

“No!” The trauco shambled after him, slipping and falling, scooping up green goo only to trip and fall again.

“There you are,” Date said, flicking aside some rotten vines and meeting the lavender eyes of the real trauco and not its puppet. The demon was missing the top of its head and looked half-insane.

It leapt at him, roaring incoherently, but he was ready. With lightning fast reflexes he stabbed it with a blade, so speedily that it withdrew without even a speck of blood on it.

Both puppet and master clutched their chests and fell down; the puppet collapsed at the foot of the stairs leading to the throne while the master slumped over the seat itself. Date checked it was properly dead this time and sheathed his daggers.

 

~*~*~

 

Outside the labyrinth, the setting sun made the Acolytes blink and shield their eyes. The ones who had lost comrades grouped together, trying to console each other, as Ghenha and Nyima seated themselves a short way away on a large rock.

“Do we have names?” Date came to join his team and glanced over at the others. He recognised a few faces, but none of them belonged to friends.

“You’re called Date,” Ghenha replied, adding under her breath, “When I’m not fucking calling you something else.”

“Yes.” Nyima supplied them, shooting the dwarf an unamused look. “Four are from Jasper and the others are Quartz and Fluorite.”

Date added up the numbers. “That’s wrong.” He looked at the groups and shut his eyes briefly. “Two whole teams are missing.”

Nyima frowned and shook her head, pitying the lives lost. “Were there many casualties last time?”

Date hummed. “A lot.” He recalled the huge memorial Zahhak conducted. “The Fluorite leader before Phanuel sent people out to find legendary treasures because he wanted them. It was the best thing Chiyoko ever did cutting him loose.”

“Phanuel’s not a lot fucking better,” Ghenha said, condescendingly. “Should’ve chosen a dwarf to lead Fluorite. We wouldn’t have sent people out on these stupid quests.”

“If that was the case we’d have a lot less people in the villages,” he pointed out. “The Jasper hunts aren’t added because someone created them, but because we’re needed. It’s just part of the fun to do it this way,” he finished in a sarcastic tone.

“I suppose the challenge is where the fun lies, and the danger adds an extra element to it.” Nyima shook her head, but couldn’t disapprove too heavily since some hunts her people went on were for the thrill of it only. “Fae have a ruthless attitude towards life.”

“That’s another reason dwarves are fucking better,” Ghenha said, smugly.

 

Having flown up to look around for whichever village had sent for the Acolytes in the first place, Date landed and directed them to a large group of mounds towards the west. They arrived as the last rays of the sun were painting the sky a burnt orange.

“This isn’t a village,” one of the fae they’d rescued, said.

“Yeah, it fucking is,” Ghenha argued. She strode to the nearest hump in the grass and thumped her foot on it three times. “Oi!” She cupped a hand around her mouth and bellowed down. “Anyone home?” There came a rumble. Ghenha ran back to the others. “Told you,” she said, grinning.

The rumbling and shaking grew stronger as the mound rose, grass ripping free and raining loose soil down, revealing a house made of stone and metal. Steam hissed from the roof and the sound of whirling hydraulics made several of them swap confused looks. “Oreads,” she said, when the door opened to show a beautiful woman. Her skin and hair were bronze and her eyes were moss green with gold pupils. “Didn’t think that fucking trauco would go for underground fae unless they were beautiful.”

“He said you had a cute nose,” Date commented dryly, earning himself a glare.

“Like I give a fuck.”

“Hello,” Nyima said to the woman, since no one else seemed to introduce themselves. “Las sent us.”

The woman’s eyes widened, and she stepped outside cautiously. “The demon, have you slain it?” Her voice was soft and almost inaudible. She kept glancing around her as if expecting popobawa to carry her off at any moment.

“Yes,” the elemental said firmly. “He is _very_  dead.”

The oread’s whole body seemed to sag with relief. She went into her house and there came a larger tremble below; the earth shaking so much that the group had trouble staying on their feet. The village revealed itself in a shower of earth and whirling of mechanics and steam. People appeared, with some coming out to greet the Acolytes.

A male, larger than the others, strode through the gathering crowd and stopped before them. “You killed the demon?” he demanded in a booming voice.

“I was gonna ask if you’re all fucking deaf, but after hearing him I won’t bother, coz the answer’s obviously fucking yes.” Ghenha stuck a finger in her ear and rubbed it.

“Yes,” Date confirmed, shaking his head at Ghenha’s rudeness.

“Ah, digger!” The male recognised her as the kind who helped them make their homes. “I am Voon. Your people are welcome to stay here the night in thanks for slaying the monster!”

“Might as well,” Date muttered. “It’s far too dark to travel safely, and I’m still not quite sure where in Illthdar we are.”

Nyima took a deep breath and nodded, hiding her disappointment. She wanted to go home to Tundra. “I suppose we have little choice,” she said. “And it would be rude not to accept their hospitality.”

 

The people showed them to a large, circular building in the centre of the village. Inside, the furnishings were a mix of stone and metal, with furs and cushions to soften the hard edges. Around the wall ran a series of copper pipes attached to a large machine that seemed to be the source of the raising and lowering. The pipes led up to the roof where plumes of steam billowed out. It was boiling and Nyima immediately wanted to excuse herself and leave, but since the temperature wouldn’t kill her, good manners won out and she suffered in silence; her skin gradually lightening as the evening wore on.

The Acolytes who had been the trauco’s victims explained how they and their teams wound up captured, each woman slowly trailing off one by one until it was Date’s team’s turn. Unfortunately, Ghenha interrupted his sparsely worded account, cussing and gesturing with her hands, even getting up and miming the moment she’d swung the axe and cut off the top of the trauco’s head.

Voon and the other oreads seemed to find the whole thing very exciting and cheered as the dwarf finally sat down and picked up a goblet of wine, downing the contents in one. “Dwarves are the best storytellers and don’t fucking forget it,” she said to Date with a wink.

He rolled his eyes, but had to agree; Ghenha had the audience in her palm the entire time she was speaking, and even now he could hear the younger oreads whispering to their parents they wanted to hear the story again.

“I’m curious,” Nyima, on Date’s left, said to Voon, seated across from them. “How is it only now you ask for help?”

The oread gestured to the room. “We live underground mostly, as you see. We have tunnels that connect the houses to each other. One of them collapsed into a sinkhole a few weeks ago. After that, men went missing and their women soon after.” He paused and shook his head, copper hair falling into his eyes. “I sent word to our nearest neighbours and learned they’d suffered the same. That was when we sent a message to Las.”

So, this was a recent development, Nyima deduced. She wondered how many Jasper hunts wound up neglected, but it seemed to be a coincidence they sent Culvers a lot of requests at the same time. She didn‘t know how often this type of mission came up. She opened her mouth to ask Date when screeching started behind a door leading off the room.

“You said you killed them all,” Voon bellowed, ushering his people outside. “Did you not kill all the popobawa?”

“Most,” Date grimaced.

The door flew back on its hinges and several little beasts flooded into the room, trying to attack everyone at once.

Ghenha leapt onto the table, swinging her axe and yelling. Nyima formed a small ice blade and shield to defend herself, but wasn’t in a fit state to do much more. Date focused on getting the oreads out, and the remaining Acolytes pulled various weapons and spun magic to take out the last of the popobawa, revenge very much in mind as they attacked without mercy.

 

“Maybe you should think about filling in the fucking hole!” Ghenha growled at Voon. The popobawa were all lying dead, with minimal injuries to the Acolytes in the exchange. She rounded on Voon when she overheard him saying they must have flown up through the collapsed tunnel.

Nyima and Date stood by a house, watching Ghenha and Voon exchange words with amused expressions on their faces. “I wouldn’t like to get on the wrong side of her,” Date commented, as Ghenha warmed to her theme and became even more vocal.

“Mmm,” Nyima agreed. “She is very impressive, however.”

“Thinking of asking her to join your team?” Date said slyly, aware they were looking to add to their group since Vyxen and Zercey were more part-timers now.

“No,” Nyima replied with feeling. “Could you imagine the chaos she would cause? Vyxen would encourage her to curse even more than she already does.”

Date sniggered, unable to disagree. “How are you feeling now?” He’d noticed she was still paler than usual and hadn’t been able to do much during the popobawa attack.

“Fine, thank you,” she replied, politely dismissive. “Sleep will be welcome, however.”

“We‘re in that one with the other women.” Ghenha had finished berating Voon and came over, pointing out a house to the north. “Bird boy’s there.” She jabbed her thumb to the house beside them. “Gets to be with his high and fucking mightiest, Voon.”

“Lucky me,” Date sighed. “I shall bid you ladies goodnight then.” He swept a bow that earned him a snort from the dwarf. “We’ll leave at first light.”

 

~*~*~

 

Nyima was up before the dawn as was her habit. She’d been waiting semi-patiently for the others to be ready so they could travel back to Las.

Voon escorted them personally to where the various mounds levelled out, indicating the edge of their village. The majority of the buildings were underground, with only those the Acolytes slept in rising.

As the nine made to leave, Voon handed them each a beaten copper medal. “As proof you did your jobs,” he said. He then inclined his head to Ghenha. “She’s got your bee.” He didn’t add that Ghenha had practically stolen it from him. She was a fiery little thing, and she had quite amused him yelling the night before, but was smart enough not to admit it.

“Bee?” one of the other Acolytes said, shrugging and looking at her friend with confusion. She was also clueless and turned orange eyes to Date.

“Ra-bees,” he explained. “They deliver specific messages; these are the hunt bees. Once we get far enough away from this spot, we release it and it will return to Vvekw, who will create a portal for us to return to Las.”

“At least we don’t have to travel on foot,” she said. It upset her having lost two teammates though they weren’t friends.

“How long will it take Vvekw to receive the message?” Nyima wanted to get home as quickly as possible.

“A couple of hours, perhaps. They move far quicker than regular bees. It’s why no one could catch them when they escaped.”

“So, this is all that fucking liubul’k’s fault?” Ghenha narrowed her eyes. “Whose is it? When I see them I’m gonna punch them in the fucking nuts!”


	12. The Valley of Flowers: Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With an amnesiac Rhovan joining their team, Lerki, Raemina and Imogen continue on in search of their hunt item. The price for finding it is high and fraught with danger. The demon Al Mi'raj guards the way, feasting on the blood of trespassers.

“Rhovan, how can you not know your own name?” Raemina stared in shock. “Lerki, what is wrong with him?”

Lerki finished packing away the bandages he’d used to bind Raemina’s hand and crouched in front of Rhovan. He delved into his knapsack and, by touch alone, located the oblong-shaped bottle he needed. “Two drops on the tongue should be enough,” he said to himself, indicating Rhovan should open his mouth. He swilled the silver liquid about in the bottle and administered it.

“Will that undo whatever’s wrong?” Imogen was a few feet away, watching the goings on with a mixture of worry and interest. She wouldn’t get close until she was sure Rhovan wouldn’t go for her again; once bitten, twice shy.

“Oh no,” Lerki replied, jamming the cork back in the bottle and stowing it away again. “This will help him lead us to the place he arrived from.”

“What good will that do?” Raemina knelt in the sand next to Rhovan, a worried frown creasing her brow.

“There’s plenty of ways to lose memories. We can’t help him unless we know exactly which method did it.” When it looked like she was about to argue Lerki shrugged and shook his head. “If I give him the wrong antidote, he might end up stuck that way forever.”

“But he remembered Raemina,” Imogen pointed out. “He can’t be a total basket case.”

Lerki agreed. “Some things stick more than others. I have seen those who forgot everything other than the one thing that matters most to them.”

Raemina blushed and turned away to hide her pleased smile; it was not appropriate for her to be happy Rhovan forgot everything, except her.

“There was one,” Lerki went on, “who inhaled the fragrance of the myosotis latifolia and could only recall the name of his companion.”

Lilac eyes narrowed as Raemina scowled. “I am not a companion.”

“Of course not.” This confused Lerki. “It’s just an example.”

“I thought it was Linuad who came, not Rhovan. Although, they both seemed to remember her,” Imogen offered, recalling the way the wolf stopped when Raemina called his name. “Looks like you left an impression,” she said in a teasing voice.

“Excuse me,” Rhovan spoke at last, having been silently taking in everything they said. “You’re all my friends, right?”

Her eyes falling shut to hide the pain this question caused, Raemina nodded. “Yes.” She forced herself to meet his blank gaze and hoped they could undo it. “You came to us for help. Do you recall anything?”

His brows pinched together as he took on a thoughtful expression. “Someone was shouting at me; warning me, I think. Then I ended up here.”

 _So he has a team somewhere._ Imogen had been a little in doubt. Whether they were still alive was another question.

“All right.” Lerki got up and dusted the sand from his hands. “That should be enough time to work.” He reached out and helped Rhovan to his feet.

Both women were about to ask what it was when a ghostly, silver thread trailed outwards from Rhovan’s chest, snaking across the landscape.

“Ariadne’s thread,” Lerki explained. “It helps find your way back when you’re lost. I thought we might need it.”

“Lerki, you have the most amazing luck,” Imogen laughed and shook her head. Who else but him would think to pack the one thing they needed?

Lerki shrugged again and smiled, although he couldn’t fully deny the claim. “It is my tree, not me.”

 

~*~*~

“Do you think Rhovan’s team are on the same hunt we are?” Imogen said to Lerki beside her. In front, Raemina linked arms with Rhovan to help lead him and murmured encouraging words, trying to jog his memory.

“Who can say?” Lerki replied with a vague hand wave. “We know he came here on purpose from wherever he was. Anything else is the elements to reveal.” Though the elements weren’t helpful today. Earth in particular was shifty, not that he’d been able to converse with it for long. “We must also remain wary of Mu; it has already sensed our presence.” He pushed away the image of Zercey lying face down in the sand.

“Okay,” Imogen said, mostly to herself. “Find the other team, watch out for freaky mirages. What about our hunt?” It wasn‘t as important, but it still mattered.

“If our paths diverge, then we shall split up,” Raemina called.

“That’s not a good idea,” Lerki replied. “How will you know to cure Rhovan if we part company?”

The straightening of her back spoke of her annoyance at this information, but she made no argument. “Then we should focus on the cure first, and the hunt second.”

Imogen’s face twisted with doubt. _What a great idea, but what if the cure takes us away from Mu altogether?_ She didn’t understand how it worked, but on regular scavenger hunts teams got disqualified if they abandoned the path. She worried for Rhovan too, but she also had a side bet with Salem going over who would win. If she won, then she got to play servant for the day, trailing behind and complimenting him to everyone they passed; naturally Imogen was planning on some of them being things like him having the hairiest back in Las and breath that could drive off a whole pack of melano khole. But if she won...a grin tugged at her lips as she planned on being as wicked as possible; Salem had little sense of outrage, so she would take full advantage. Not that she didn’t care about Rhovan’s condition, but she had her own priorities too. “Hey,” she suddenly recalled. “How d'you think Mu got away with that wolf trick?” She was speaking as if the island were sentient; it probably was.

“The sand.” Raemina and Rhovan spoke in unison then stopped, her lilac gaze clashing with his aqua.

“Go on,” she encouraged, hoping this was a sign his mind was still intact somewhere inside him.

“Well,” he ducked down and picked up a handful, tilting it towards the light so it shone, “illusions use refractive light and this sand is very glittery.” He put it in simple terms, but was correct.

“Guess he’s not a total jelly brain,” Imogen commented, wry.

“It’s only memories, not knowledge, that he lost.” Lerki found this comforting, as it narrowed down the list of suspect responsible for his state.

 

~*~*~

The group travelled towards the hazy outline of a mountain in the distance. Lerki couldn’t recall having seen it before, but it was some time since he travelled to Mu. The landscape had a habit of changing to confuse people. Here, however, it was genuine. As they reached the base, he poked the stones, confirming they were solid and not another mirage. “Mu didn’t trick us?”

“More luck?” Imogen said, shrugging. She looked at the silvery thread, which snaked up the mountain in a haphazard way. “Rhovan, did you fall off this?” Her green eyes widened, and she looked at him in shock. “How did you even survive?”

He gave her a blank look. “I don’t know.”

“If the thread is correct,” Raemina said, tracing its path with her finger, “Rhovan did not fall, but made his way down. It must have been Linuad.” Suppressing Linuad’s instincts was impossible, no matter what state Rhovan got into. 

“Guess the flower’s up there, too.” Imogen rubbed her hands together at the challenge of climbing the rock face without kit or safeties. “I hope no one’s afraid of heights.”

“Not afraid,” Lerki began, amethyst eyes climbing the cliff face, “but I see no reason to clamber like a goat if I don’t have to.”

“We do have to,” Raemina said, resolute. “There is no other option if we are to restore Rhovan’s memory and save his team.”

“Am I afraid of heights?” Rhovan looked at the ragged rock face.

“Are you?” Raemina repeated back. He frowned and put his head to one side, reminding her of Loui in that moment. Her heart ached for Rhovan back the way he was, but she was doing her best to keep it from showing.

“No,” he concluded at last. “As long as there’s no wobbly bridge.”

Lips tilting up in amusement, Raemina said, “Let us be on our way then.”

 

~*~*~

Imogen took point, being the most nimble, experienced and fearless among them. She all but flew up the side of the mountain, finding handholds, footholds and safe spots for the others to pause and rest, while she never seemed to tire for a moment. The others appreciated her enthusiasm and encouragement whenever they faltered; the acrobat was in her element. There was little spare breath for talking, so the group was mostly silent and focused as they climbed.

“Here.” Imogen stretched out her hand for Lerki’s and helped him over the final overhang and onto the large, flat promontory. The duo then did the same for Raemina and Rhovan until they all sat catching their breath and easing aching muscles.

“We seem to be halfway,” Raemina offered, staring up and spying the summit high above them.

“We’re better than halfway, we’re here,” Imogen replied, nodding at the ghostly, silver thread still snaking out from Rhovan’s chest. It went around them to a gap in the cliff. Imogen stared at the opening grimly; she did not like enclosed spaces. Not. One. Bit. _It’s for Rhovan’s sake,_ she reminded herself, wondering if anyone would mind if she stayed put. “Maybe we should make camp till the morning,” she said instead, taking in the late hour which would only make it more dark inside.

“I think we should press on. Surely we can find something useful to act as a torch,” Raemina replied, her eyes on Rhovan, who was looking about with interest. “Rhovan, do you remember passing through this way?”

“I don’t know,” he said, shrugging.

“What a shocker,” Imogen muttered. “He remembers nothing, Rae,” she said in an impatient voice.

“If I do not ask him, how will we know for certain?” She kept her distress under control, but was growing more desperate to see him back to normal.

“He knew he didn’t mind heights,” Lerki added, getting up and wandering over to the cave entrance. “Some things stick,” he reminded Imogen of his earlier words and she sighed and rolled her eyes.

“Fine. Let’s get this over with.” She stood up in a single, fluid motion and forced her shoulders back; this wouldn’t be pleasant. “Ready or not.”

 

“Really not ready,” Imogen breathed, listening to moisture dripping from somewhere deep inside the cave. It was pitch black, the darkness made the tiniest bit brighter by a glowing crystal Ramina carried. The mountain bore down on her as they headed deeper into the gloom. Her skin was two-sizes-too-small. Strange sounds had her darting her eyes about, unable to settle on anything, even the path ahead. She kept rolling her shoulders to loosen her muscles, but all that did was send shivers down her spine. “Can we speed things up a little?” Her voice echoed.

“We must still exercise caution,” Raemina said, swinging the glowing jewel towards Imogen. “We do not know the reason for Rhovan’s state; what if it is a demon?”

Lerki was listening to the ponderous voice of earth. He found his mood stuck somewhere between Raemina’s eagerness to press on and Imogen’s yearning to go back. Only the grounding he got from the element all around him helped him keep focus. “Earth says this cave is not large and there is an exit close by.” Earth was always straightforward when it gave him information. There was something else it was trying to explain to him, but it surprised him to learn he didn’t understand.

“Earth can take a dunk in a doniker!” Imogen snapped, nerves shattering. It was too much, she was too far inside the mountain. She needed fresh air and sunlight. She couldn’t be in this place, trapped with no way out. She had to be free! “I’m getting the hell out of here, right now!” She bolted past the others, not stopping as they chased after her, calling for her to stop.

 

~*~*~

Imogen finally slid to a halt just outside the exit Lerki mentioned. It wasn’t close enough for her liking, but she was there now and tipped her head back, feeling the breeze against her skin, brushing away the beads of sweat on her brow, and drawing in deep breaths of cool, crisp air. She thought she would exit to nighttime, but the sun still shone.

“That was very foolish,” Raemina said, appearing beside her, breathing heavily. “Anything could have happened to you.”

“It didn’t,” Imogen beamed. She couldn’t pretend to feel bad when the result was so sweet.

The mountain encircled the clearing on all sides. Above clear blue skies with sunlight angling down. They were still inside, but also outside. Lush grass and flowers grew in a sunny spot forty feet from where they stood. 

“Perhaps we have come for those?” Raemina pointed to the flowers, glancing over her shoulder to see Lerki and Rhovan exiting the tunnel.

“I think we must go that way,” Lerki called, pointing to a set of stone stairs.

“Psst!”

The group swapped blank expressions; who spoke?

“Psst! Hey!”

They turned as one and spotted a group of five Acolytes waving frantically at them; were they Rhovan’s team?

“Get over here, quick, before it sees you!”

“What sees us?” Imogen was curious and wary.

“Oh dear,” Lerki breathed, realising what Earth was trying to tell him. “Al mi’raj. Quick, quick, go to them,” he whispered harshly, urging his team to move.

“’Al mi’raj’? What’s that?” Imogen went, but she was looking over her shoulder to spot this al mi’raj.

“A sasah, but not.” Lerki’s answer was no answer.

“What?” Imogen didn’t have the patience for cryptic word games.

“It’s a sasah corrupted by evil magic,” Rhovan supplied. “It looks like a regular sasah but it eats...” he trailed off and swallowed, his brows furrowing.

“Eats what?” Imogen said overloud.

A tan, furry head jerked up from the centre of the flowery mass across the clearing, long ears twitching. The jackalope had a single antler instead of two. A jagged stub close to its head suggested what happened to the other. When it turned to stare at the group, they could see pure evil in its eyes.

“People,” Rhovan finished his sentence and gulped. “It eats people.”

Imogen knew she shouldn’t laugh, but did. “That thing eats people?” Sarcasm weighted her voice. “It’s a bunny!”

In response, the sasah bounded across the clearing, its pace turning predatory as it sped up. It lowered its head and charged Imogen, as the others dove out of the way. Imogen leapt over it, flipping in the air and twisting. She landed facing the group while al mi’raj bounded into the mountain wall and leapt back, performing a flip of its own and stabbing her in the shoulder as it sailed over her head. Imogen screamed as the razor sharp horn sliced through her skin, dragging her to her knees. Claws stabbed into her back as the demon sasah ripped its horn free and went to bite her jugular.

“Off, beast!” Raemina thrust her spear, seeing Imogen’s eyes widen as the blade and shaft passed within centimetres of her face. The demon blocked the blow with its horn and back-flipped away, landing in the taller grasses and disappearing.

“Imogen!” Rhovan and Lerki hurried to her side and helped her up. Rhovan stemmed the blood flow from the wound as the latter dug in his satchel for something.

They moved over to where the other group of Acolytes were hiding and set about tending to her injury.

“We told you to hide,” a half-blood woman said, her hands shaking as she assisted Lerki. “It’s trapped us here for hours. Every time anyone moves to either exit that thing shows itself again.”

“Yes, it would,” Rhovan answered. “Al mi’raj likes to toy with its victims beforehand.”

“How did you get away from it?” Raemina flexed her fingers and peered over the rock they were hiding behind. She gripped her spear tightly in her uninjured hand, ready to defend her friends if it came back.

“Not all of us did,” one of the fae replied, shutting grief filled sapphire eyes.

“There are five,” Lerki whispered. These Acolytes weren’t Rhovan’s missing team mates.

“Apologies,” Raemina said, not realising. “I am sorry for your loss.”

“So are we.”

Imogen’s teeth chattered as shock set in. She couldn’t seem to stop from shaking, even when Rhovan pressed his weight down on her, so Lerki could treat the wound. “Can’t breathe,” she gasped, sucking in more and more air. It felt like she was drowning on land.

“It’s gone through her lung,” a distant voice said, and Imogen tried to focus on the two men in front of her as she panted shallowly.

“She’s dead,” another said, without feeling.

“She is not!” The undercurrent of fear in Raemina’s voice made Imogen want to say everything was all right.

“She is not,” Lerki’s more calmly spoken disagreement gave her confidence he knew what he was talking about. He smeared something on her and a mellow warmth slowly spread from her injury down her arm and around her back. The pain in her chest receded and suddenly she could breathe more easily. The black spots dancing in front of her eyes disappeared and she could see her friends’ pale and worried faces. When her teeth finally stopped chattering she asked, “What d'you do?”

Lerki opened his hand and showed her the crushed head of a flower, its white petals stained pink with her blood. “Incenit,” he said, jerking his head up slightly to where the flowers were growing. “It has many uses, but this seemed the quickest to help you.”

Her shoulder was still killing her, but she felt a million times better already. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome, cousin,” he replied in an absent tone. His gaze then went to where the Al mi’raj lay waiting for them. “I’ll be right back,” he murmured.

“Lerki.” Raemina tried to stop him, but he shook her off. Surely he wouldn’t attack the demon? She looked at Imogen in disbelief and noted how quickly the colour was back in her cheeks. “You are well, truly?”

“I’m ok,” Imogen replied, reaching out and wrapping Raemina in a one-armed hug. “See, I’m just fine.”

Rhovan hugged them tight enough Imogen protested she couldn’t breathe again. “I might not remember you, but I know you’re my friend because _I was so worried!”_ he said, moving back to check her injury and marvelling at how fast it healed. He shifted over and put his arm around Raemina, who looked paler than usual. “It’s all right,” he said in comfort.

She nodded and ducked her head, embarrassed, but also happy she had people to care for and who cared for her.

 

~*~*~

In other circumstances, Lerki was last in line fighting an enemy. His usual tactic was to throw down seeds have them sprout to vines, block his opponent in and then run for safety. But this demon had hurt one of his friends. Venin and nymphs were not so different: something who hurt his kin deserved to die.

The demon sasah poked its head up from the tall grasses and watched Lerki as he delved inside his satchel, locating the seeds he wanted to use. “You have a very important job,” he whispered, planting them at his feet.

The sasah tipped its head to the side, pink nose twitching with interest as cerise flowers sprouted. It watched intently as Lerki crouched down and ruthlessly yanked the plant out of the earth to access its roots. He drew a small knife and cut in the plant, murmuring apologies. The sap that dripped down onto the blade brought the demon to life as it caught the scent of something dangerous.

Al mi’raj leapt on him, driving him to the ground.

With more skill than expected, Lerki snatched the sasah by the scruff of the neck and stuck the knife into its side; it might have been a demon, but it was also a large jackalope.

Al mi’raj thrashed, twisting in his grip and trying to bite him with its razor-sharp teeth.

Lerki responded by letting it have his hand, distantly recalling his concern about losing it to Linuad’s teeth, but having no reservations now.

Al mi’raj scrabbled free and hopped away from him. It then staggered and flopped over onto its side where it heaved a few breaths and then lay still.

Lerki got up and, without ceremony, wrapped a bandage around his bleeding fingers, first placing one of the incenit flowers against his skin to ward off the poison. “We should gather these up quickly,” he called to the others. “The al mi’raj won’t remain that way for long.”

“What does that mean?” one of the other Acolytes called. “You killed it, it’s dead!”

“Incenit!” Lerki yelled back. “They will bring it back to life!”

“Oh, what the fuck?!” Imogen got to her feet with help from Rhovan and Raemina. The trio hurried to Lerki and snatched up handfuls of the bloom, shoving them in his satchel as a gentle breeze blew them towards the stairway.

 

The wind whistled through the clearing, swept inside the flowers’ trumpets. A playful tune bounced around the clearing. Droplets of glowing light spilled from them, gathering around the body of al mi’raj.

“Hurry!” Raemina waved the others over and they all stumbled to the steps that led up the mountain.

“What’s stopping that thing following us?” an elf asked.

“If it dies outside of the clearing it dies forever,” Rhovan answered. He might not have been able to remember things that mattered, besides Raemina’s face, but facts were different.

An angry squeak signalled the demon rising from the dead, but the Acolytes were already well on their way up the winding staircase. They completed their hunt and obtained the flower, but still hadn’t found Rhovan’s teammates. They would have to continue on.  


	13. The Divine: Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Having survived their encounter with the Al miraj, Lerki, Imogen, Raemina and Rhovan make it to the top of the mountain where they enter Meng Po's palace to find their missing friends.

Arriving at the top of the mountain, Lerki and his group stared at the imposing palace with spiralling towers and bright painted walls.

“Who knew this was up here?” Imogen almost couldn’t believe her eyes.

“Oh dear,” Lerki murmured, looking over at Rhovan. “You were inside Meng Po’s palace?”

Rhovan shrugged and nodded, unsure still. “I think so?”

“Oh, dear.”

“Lerki, share your thoughts, please,” Raemina said, feeling his worry being transferring to the group. Whatever it was, couldn’t possibly be as bad as he was making out.

“Meng Po is a Goddess of reincarnation,” Lerki began, gesturing to the gates; the images on them displayed both life and death. “Souls sit at her table and drink tea to forget their past lives before being reborn.”

“What does it mean if Rhovan drank it?” Imogen looked at the gates. How did anyone get in?

“It depends on how many cups.” Lerki walked to the gate and touched the wrought iron. It immediately swung back. “They only look locked,” he explained. “A determined soul would try to enter, while one who was still yearning for their former life would not.”

“Makes sense,” Imogen replied, although it also meant there was nothing stopping anyone with even the mildest curiosity from going in. “I have a bad feeling about this.”

“I suppose you do not remember how many cups of tea you had,” Raemina said to Rhovan, not bothering to phrase it as a question.

“No,” he answered anyway. “One, maybe? I have lost my memory, but I think if I had more Lergy would be more worried.”

“Lerki,” she corrected in a patient voice.

“Lerki,” he repeated, smiling and making her blush.

“Carry on, Lergy,” Imogen said, winking and trying to lighten the atmosphere. “What happens if someone has more than one cup of Meng Po’s tea?”

Lerki shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve only ever heard of one person who drank it, besides Rhovan.”

A satyr, he recalled, found wandering Sleepy Forest with no idea who he was or where he came from. It took a few weeks to concoct the right antidote, but they restored his memory, though he didn’t know what happened to his convoy of thirty, who no one heard of again.

“Forget this!” One of the five other Acolytes spoke up for their group. “We already lost one person, we’re not losing another!”

“I believe there is a path over there,” Raemina suggested, pointing out a stone pathway, part concealed by low-lying clouds. “Perhaps it will lead you back down again.”

“We’ll take it. Gotta be better than in there.” The team missing a member didn’t hesitate and hurried off.

The other three paused. “Are you sure you’re going in?” the half-blood woman questioned.

“Rhovan’s team are still missing,” Imogen replied. “If it was your friends wouldn’t you want someone to save them?”

“Yeah,” the blond agreed, but shook her head. “I don’t think I’m cut out for Illthdar.”

“That’s why we are going,” Lerki offered. “When you get to Las tell the High Elders what happened, just in case we don’t come back.” 

“There’s confidence,” Imogen said, lips twisting wryly. “Way to boost morale, Lerki.”

He winced. “I’m just being honest.”

The other group hurried after the two Acolytes, leaving four remaining in front of the open gates. “How dangerous is Meng Po?” Raemina eyed the way ahead with caution.

“I don’t know,” Lerki replied, sounding like Rhovan for a moment.

“Great, now he’s doing it,” Imogen smirked and shot Lerki a wink when he sent her a startled look, jewellery whistling.

“I hope my teammates are ok,” Rhovan said, as they passed beyond the gates and climbed the steps to the palace. “I wish I remembered who they were.”

~*~*~

“Hello!” Xyl called in a cheerful voice.

Imogen and the others looked up. “How did you end up in there?” Her eyes widened as she took in the gilded bird’s cage her brother was in. He was sitting on the floor with his legs and arms dangling through the bars, since it was the only way for his gangly frame to be semi-comfortable.

They located him after creeping along the softly lit, empty corridors, running into no one, but feeling as though they were being watched. The first room they came to had two sleeping fae in it, and they were about to pass by when a familiar whistling caught Imogen’s ear. She took a moment to figure out where she heard the tune before, and then saying nothing to the others she darted into the room and headed towards a doorway on the opposite wall, waving at them to follow her.

“Where’s Meng Po?” Lerki asked in a hushed voice, wary of making too much noise.

“I wouldn’t drink any tea, so she locked me up in here until I change my mind, or die,” Xyl replied, still cheerful, though his brow furrowed on the last part. “And when Rhovan turned into a wolf, I knew he was rushing off to get help,” he finished, beaming down at Rhovan.

“Rhovan didn’t even know anyone needed help, so your faith is out of this world, little brother.” Imogen shook her head, even as her eyes traced a path up to where the cage hung. “Is there a key?”

“If there is, Meng Po surely has it,” Raemina offered, confident her guess was correct.

“Is he one of my friends, too?” Rhovan frowned up at Xyl, feeling something tickle the back of his mind. “His voice sounds familiar.”

Taking in the room, Imogen spied a row of shelves which ran from floor to ceiling she thought would hold her weight, though bottles and jars covered it. “Xyl must’ve been the one warning you,” she replied, as she strode over to a chair and moved it towards the far wall. The shock at finding her sibling captured took her by surprise, and she was angry at Rhovan for not remembering him in the first place; if she knew she would have urged the others to move quicker. Her shoulder ached as she clambered up the shelves, but she ignored it; Xyl needed her.

“Imogen, is that a good idea?” Xyl watched his sister. “Only–” He wasn’t able to finish his sentence, as the shelf she was standing on gave way and the lot came down with a crash, forcing her to somersault clear.

“That will alert Meng Po.” Raemina flexed the fingers on her injured hand, deciding it would be useful enough for a brief fight; anything longer and her grip might become weak.

“Take nothing she offers,” Lerki said in unison with Xyl. He looked up with surprise.

“I read about her.”

“Perfect,” Rhovan exclaimed. “What should we do?”

“She’ll expect you to sit at the table with the other Acolytes–” Another interruption, this time by the kindly faced Goddess; behind her were the two Fae that slept in the other room.

“More guests. How blessed we are today.” She gestured for them to go through the doorway. “Come, sit at my table.”

“Don’t drink the tea,” Xyl hissed the reminder, as the group left.

 

 

The four Acolytes perched on silk cushions around the empty, golden table, each of their backs held rigid with tension.

“I thought Xyl implied there were others here,” Raemina whispered to Imogen.

Imogen shrugged and shook her head, a creeping sense of foreboding settling over her. “He also said she put him in that cage until he drank the tea or died; this Goddess isn’t as sweet as she looks.”

Raemina‘s brows pinched as she nodded.

“Please, partake of my table.” Meng Po waved her sleeve covered hand and, as before, a fae appeared with a tray.

“It would be rude of us not to enquire after your esteemed health and well being first,” Raemina said, as a servant poured steaming, golden liquid into cups. “Let us sit and talk while our tea cools, so we may better enjoy its flavour.”

The Goddess appeared pleased by this, her eyes crinkled at the corners, as a small smile touched her lips. “That would be most agreeable.”

The others breathed easier with this small window of time Raemina gave them.

“Do you think she has an antidote to that tea?” Imogen hissed out the side of her mouth to Lerki as Raemina swapped pleasantries with the Goddess.

“I’m not sure,” Lerki mumbled. “Her task is to prepare souls for reincarnation, so for what reason would she reverse the effect?”

Having caught the words of the two beside him, Rhovan addressed the Goddess, as Raemina exhausted her list of polite small-talk and a fleeting look of panic crossed her face. “I was wondering what ingredients went into your tea; it has a unique effect.”

“That would be my secret,” the Goddess replied in a soft voice. “If the world learned of the Divine, it would fall into chaos.”

“That’s why no one ever returns from here,” Lerki said, not thinking to keep his thoughts to himself. He also wondered aloud where the people went. Since entering the palace he heard the strangest whispers, though it didn’t sound like the voice of Wind.

Meng Po made the smallest bow to acknowledge Lerki’s train of thought and then waved a languid arm at the frescoes on the walls. “Such a pity they were not yet ready to be reborn, but I could not allow them to leave.”

The temperature in the room dropped. The group turned to look at the paintings, seeing them afresh and taking in the terror hidden in the figures’ eyes. They may have their memories stolen, but they knew what happened until the last moment. Were they alive still?

Imogen swallowed, trying to get the words past her dry throat. “Those are real people?”

“Yes.” Meng Po seemed pleased by this conclusion.

“The voices,” Lerki mumbled, his jewellery whistling with panic.

Imogen scanned the woodland scene, taking in the large number of satyrs and nymphs and recalling what Lerki had said about the man who arrived in Las suffering from the effects of the tea; thirty clansmen went missing. She clamped her jaw shut willing herself not to make a sound, as the colour drained from her face.

Raemina drew in a sharp breath. “That boy.” She subtly pointed to a section of the wall where a dark-skinned young man chased two fae across a glade. “He is an Acolyte.”

“Rhovan’s other team mate?” Lerki assumed. They hadn’t thought to ask Xyl about their third, and Rhovan was no help in his current state.

“By the spirits,” Raemina murmured, realising just how much trouble they walked into; as if it hadn’t been obvious when they’d found Xyl strung up in a cage. “Why did you not force Xyl to partake?” It was odd, and she had the sense it was important.

“I cannot force one to drink,” Meng Po replied. “Only offer and encourage.” Her smile was stayed sweet and kind, as though her actions didn’t trouble her. “The boy was most polite and complimentary, a very pleasant companion.”

“I’ve had enough of this,” Imogen snarled and leapt to her feet, angry at how the Goddess had treated her “pleasant companion”; Xyl wasn’t some pet kept in a cage. “You’re going to let my brother and everyone else go, right now.” She drew a blade and pointed it at the Goddess.

Meng Po covered her mouth with her hand and tittered softly behind it. “That would be impossible,” she breathed, then her whole demeanour shifted with a subtle change. _“The first bowl washed the cobwebs from my mind—the whole world seemed to sparkle.”_ The Goddess’s voice seemed to echo around the room and made Imogen blink slowly and shake her head. _“A second cleaned my spirit, like purifying showers of rain.”_

Plonking back down onto her cushion with a mute thud, as though her legs were jelly, Imogen joined Lerki and Rhovan in mindlessly reaching for their cups. _“A third and I was one of the Immortals—what need now for austerities to purge our human sorrows?”_

As they began to drink, the Goddess let out a strangled gasp. The sound of porcelain shattering broke the tendrils of enchantment wrapping about their minds.   
Raemina withdrew her spear from Meng Po’s chest, using the pole to upend their cups. “It is a pity for you,” she began in a tone devoid of emotion, “that I have the blessing of _my_ Goddess to protect me.” Her lilac eyes narrowed on the deity’s face, her anger a ball of luminescent fury she held tight to, stoking her courage.

Meng Po blinked, elderly face creasing as she looked down at the blood blooming from her wound, a red flower that stained her golden kimono. “I am immortal.”

“Immortal is merely another way of saying: ‘difficult to kill’. But I will make the attempt.” Raemina drew back the spear once more, her injured hand hot and protesting the raw treatment, but she knew what she had to do; there was no other way. Not without sacrificing one of their own. “Choose, Goddess. You allow us to leave, along with your other captives, or we will test your immortality.”

Imogen, Rhovan and Lerki scrambled up from their seats and moved to flank Raemina.

“What she said,” Rhovan echoed, drawing a knife.

Imogen’s muscles drew tight, she was ready to leap on the injured deity and finish what Raemina started; why should they wait to strike a deal when this was their show now?

“The key to Xyl’s cage, if you wouldn’t mind,” Lerki said, apologetic for how things turned out. He knew the Goddess was only doing her duty as protector of the Divine herb, but if the time had come for her existence to end, then that was her fate and, as a venin, he couldn’t bring himself to regret how the life cycle panned out. He thought Meng Po would also agree, being a protector of souls.

No one challenged Meng Po before. People came looking for her fabled tea and she gave it to them. If they took it from Diyu what might happen? Was she wrong to guard the sacred herb? She placed a hand over her wound, face creasing, this time with fear, as blood oozed through her white fingers. “My servant will release your comrade,” she whispered, bowing her head. “None of you will be welcome in my halls when your time comes.” She looked up suddenly, her expression every inch the Goddess, as she cursed them in an echoing tone, _“This is your only life. Use it wisely.”_

~*~*~

“OhmyGodyouguysareok!” The moment Xyl was released from his cage by a hawk-faced borrower he threw his arms around Imogen and hugged tight. “I didn’t think you’d make it!”

“Neither did we,” Imogen replied, squeezing him back just as much. The relief she felt was almost enough to make her cry, but she wasn’t a crier, so didn’t.

“What happened to Meng Po?” Xyl’s mind was in a whirl, not knowing what to picture.

“She is still at her table,” Raemina said, in a calm voice. “She will release her other prisoners and we shall return to Las.”

“That’s incredible!” Xyl immediately replied, then frowned. “What other prisoners?”

“Your teammate, the Acolytes and the all the nymphs and satyrs.” Now Lerki was the one to frown; they were forgetting something.

 Xyl’s brow furrowed. “What nymphs and satyrs?”

It was a short and to the point explanation.

“They’re all real people?” He stared at the painted walls and recalled complimenting the Goddess on her artistry. He didn’t know what to think.

“Let them go,” Imogen ordered Meng Po.

“They will appear outside the gates,” the Goddess replied in a weak voice, exhausted.

“And Rhovan’s antidote?” Raemina said, causing Lerki to exclaim behind her.

“I _knew_ I was forgetting something!”

“What antidote?” The Goddess, weakened and out of good humour, mocked, lips twisting into a cruel parody of her usual smile.

Raemina reached the limits of her patience. She strode over to the Goddess, picked up a cup of tea and forced it down the deity’s objecting throat. “I would ask again, but now, at least, you genuinely do not know the answer.”

“Wow, Raemina!” Imogen made a note not to get on her friend’s bad side, ever. The calm demeanour hid a merciless side.

Meng Po blinked up at Raemina, face empty of recognition.

“If you can pick the sanjeevani from the grove down the mountain, it will make a tea to heal your friend’s memory.” The borrower who let Xyl out of the cage appeared and took Meng Po’s hand, urging her to rise with gentle murmurs, as though she were talking to a child.

“Sanjeevani!” Again, Lerki exclaimed from behind Raemina. “That is the name for the incenit!” He delved into his satchel and brought out a clutch, triumphant. “These will undo Rhovan‘s problem!”

“You should all go now. The Goddess needs her rest,” the borrower said.

“Why are you and those other fae even serving her?” 

“We are the unsure,” the borrower frowned, amber eyes sad and filled with regret. “Meng Po was kind enough to let us through the gates even though we yearned to stay with our loved ones.”

Xyl touched Imogen’s shoulder. “They’re spirits,” he said, feeling a wave of pity for the poor souls. “When they’re ready, Meng Po will give them the tea so they can move to the next life.”

“Oh.” Imogen wanted to hate the Goddess for her actions, but it seemed she wasn’t all evil. “Let’s just get out of here,” she muttered, shaking her head and curling her fingers into fists. “Before I do something I might regret.”

“Once we get back to headquarters Phanuel will create the antidote for you, Rhovan,” Raemina said, as the group walked a careful path hidden in the clouds. Raemina and Rhovan took the lead, Imogen and Xyl brought up the rear, and Lerki sandwiched himself between the large group of innocent and naïve Acolytes, satyrs and nymphs, who they found standing outside the gates of Diyu as Meng Po promised.

Upon seeing Jenshi alive and well Xyl gave him an impulsive hug and said, “I forgive you!”

Jenshi tipped his head to the side and frowned. “I’m sorry, thank you,” he replied in a polite voice that made Xyl think underneath all of Jenshi’s many, _many_ layers of annoying, perverted ideas there was a good person trying to get out. It was just a shame they had to give him the antidote and return him to his usual self.

“Before that happens, I was wondering,” Rhovan began in a slightly hesitant voice. “You see, I thought that, well, Emmanuelle said that –” he stopped as Raemina sent him a blank look. “That isn’t her name, is it?”

She laughed softly. “No. It’s Imogen.” She couldn’t help but compare Rhovan’s recalling her name with ease, to his lack of recall with their friends’ names. She watched him repeat it silently to himself, before returning to the previous subject. “You had a question?”

“Yes.” Rhovan put his hand to his temple briefly, then acted shifty once more. “The thing is, back when I found you all Imogen said I remembered you and so did my wolf form, so I was wondering what the reason was for that.” He felt an odd flutter in his head, as though something approved of his words. He guessed it must be his wolf and felt pleased that it seemed to feel the same way he did.

“We are good friends,” Raemina replied, though it was hard for her to remain neutral. Once Rhovan got his memory back, she hoped he might ask again.

“Just friends?” he persisted.

She ducked her head a little, debating how to answer this. As she opened her mouth, there came a shout from behind them and both had to help a nymph who lost her footing and slipped from the path. By the time everyone was safe again they left the subject too long to return to, and both sensed the missed opportunity.

At the rear of the group, Xyl and Imogen were being tested because Jenshi, despite having no memory of who he was, seemed intent on flirting with them. His focus was mostly on the latter, but if the mood took him he switched targets. It was less amusing than it could have been, especially since Jenshi didn’t seem to understand that Xyl had a loving partner, even though he mentioned Cowan at least twenty times in the space of ten minutes.

“This guy is a total Joey,” Imogen muttered to her brother, when Jenshi became distracted helping a satyr.

“I think it’s his nature,” Xyl said back. Without his memories he was less vile, but the almost-desperate way Jenshi acted with others seemed to be a hint of something deep inside him trying to get out. “He might be a fae who cannot control his lust.”

Imogen pulled a face at the thought of Jenshi and lust. “You mean he could be an incubus.” She shrugged. “Makes sense, even if he is a jerkoff.”

“How did your hunt go, anyway?” Xyl checked to make sure the group were still all right on the path and then looked at his sister. “You have a bet with Salem, don’t you?”

“How do you know that?” Imogen’s jaw fell open; she thought it was a secret between her and him.

“He said something about you wearing a gold bikini, your hair up in side-buns and following him about all day long reminding everyone in Las how wonderful, charming and handsome he is.” Xyl laughed at the image this brought to mind.

“He did, did he?” Imogen snickered. She hoped the cheeky shit failed so hard on his hunt he got butthurt over it. “How does making him walk around in a loincloth sound to you?”

“Like it’s a treat for you and not a punishment for him,” Xyl chuckled. “And he’d just point out how in shape he is and get women to feel his muscles.” Xyl saw this firsthand when he’d bumped into Salem that morning and he had the same sylphs they’d helped a few weeks ago clinging to him.

“Ok, a dress?” Imogen shook her head as soon as she said it; Salem would act the clown, curtseying and trying to see if it would fool Uwe enough to flirt with him.

“Your smile is worrying me,” Xyl said, amused.

“You’re not the one who needs to worry.” She reached up and ruffled his messy hair. “Salem on the other hand...”

 

 


	14. The Fairest: Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deep within the stone palace of the Goddess Danu, Scyanatha and her teammates find themselves in the middle of a family feud.

Scyanatha couldn‘t help the far darrig. That didn’t stop her lamenting his painful death. She covered him with a blanket from the bed, then lit a candle to take into the pitch-black passageway. “Let’s hope whatever attacked him left,” she murmured, voicing her thoughts, breaking the heavy silence. Nerves had her babbling. “I hope Cuculaiin is all right, and those silly sylphs.”

She descended a short flight of steps, slippery underfoot. Her footsteps cautious as she moved along the corridor. Most of the palace was white stone. This was black. Even with candlelight it felt oppressive. Her breaths echoed in her ears. She tried quieting them, wary of being taken by surprise by whatever attacked the far darrig. Her footsteps cautious, but not hesitant, she kept one hand on the wall, senses on high alert for anything leaping out.

When she made it to the end safe she let out a relieved breath. “That was scary for no reason,” she laughed softly, putting the candle on a side table. “I shouldn’t let the atmosphere in this place affect me.”

“Why not?”

Shock crawled along Scyanatha’s spine. She hadn‘t sensed another presence. Her head whipped towards Danu’s bed where a man lay in the centre of a plush pink explosion. “In future, announce yourself without attempting to cause a heart attack,” she snapped.

The man chuckled. Bit his lip on a moan, putting a hand to his side. “I thought it more amusing not to,” he replied. “Besides, no faery ever died of a heart attack.”

Scyanatha rolled ruby eyes and approached the bed. “How injured are you?”

“Enough.” He lifted his hand, then slapped it back down. “Aiden was in better shape, so he went for help.”

 _Aiden was the far darrig_. _If his injuries were less severe the poison is fast acting, but if that’s true this one should be dead._  Scyanatha tipped her head and narrowed her eyes. “Were you poisoned?”

He shook his head. “Not that I know. Why?”

She scanned him, making distant note he was a typical tall, dark and handsome. The wound on his side oozed black blood. _Not good._ “You’re a Drow?” A dark faery, poisonous to fae. Pieces fell into place. “You attacked Aiden.”

“Well, shit.” He sat up and swung his legs off the bed. “Thought I had you fooled.”

“You’re an Acolyte,” she said, stepping back and clasping her hands together. She would rip the string holding her stone beads together and use them as bullets if he tried anything.

“Am I?”

“Of course you’re not.” She shook her head, annoyed at her naivety. “You’re an assassin who infiltrated the hunt with your team; Aiden and a borrower,” she paused. “Not a borrower. What is he?”

“A lubber fiend. Not that it’ll do you any good,” he replied, snatching up a bow and arrows hidden by the bed. “I was waiting for Danu, but you arrived instead.”

 _He must have betrayed his ally who injured him. Aiden made it to the secret passage before dying. If he killed one, the other is likely dead as well._ “Why are you after Danu?” The Goddess was a bitch, but as far as Scyanatha knew she did nothing terrible enough to warrant a death sentence. _Not lately, at least._

In reply, he strung an arrow, tip dipped in blood, and fired. Scy countered by flicking a stone from her bracelet. Gesture casual, bored. The arrow deflected and struck the wall. The drow’s dark brows rose in surprise and he stared at the shaft for several seconds, giving Scyanatha time to launch a dozen beads, then beat a tactical retreat. No one who fought a drow lived long. They were pariahs among the Unseelie court. Assassins who appeared when someone wanted murder committing without dirtying their own hands. 

Rounding a corner, Scyanatha ran smack into Cuculaiin. Covered in dust and breathing heavy, he didn‘t appear to have injuries. “Cu!” Relieved to see him alive, she hugged him. The young demon hesitated for a moment, then returned the gesture.

“Are you all right?” They spoke in unison.

“Yes,” Scyanatha replied first. “There’s a drow after Lady Danu. I’m certain he and his team drove off the other fae.”

“They came right before us.” Cuculaiin tilted his head and frowned.

“Danu‘s realm has its own time,” Scy explained. “A few ticks in Las is a larger stretch here, giving them plenty of leeway to wreak havoc.” She assumed the courtiers ran away and weren’t lying dead. She looked around. “Where are the delightful duo?”

“I lost them.” Cu looked pleased. “They wanted this golden apple I found. I think it’s the one we need for the hunt.”

Scy shook her head. “This isn’t included in the hunt. Someone left that mark on the tree stump to guide assassins. We must find Danu before it’s too late.”

Cuculaiin frowned. “Wouldn’t she have left with everyone else?”

Scyanatha snorted. “Not Danu.” The last time the pink-haired deity was assaulted she remained on her throne the entire time. She stepped in when the enemy skewered her favourite and rendered the group limb from limb. “The drow waited in her bedroom, instead of challenging her in the audience chamber.” _Something is wrong with that, but what?_  “Let’s go to the throne room.” If they saved the Goddess’s life she might finally forgive Scyanatha for marrying Seth. Someone Danu said was beneath her and the Unseelie. 

 

Entering the throne room, Scyanatha ducked the glaive thrown at her head. There was a dull thwack as it hit something behind. Her eyes widened in horror as she spun around. “Are you hurt?“ She scowled at the glaive lodged in one of Cuculaiin’s horns. 

The one who threw it, the drow‘s accomplice the lubber fiend, growled and charged, drawing a knife.

Scyanatha threw loose beads from her bracelets. They stopped between her and the lubber fiend. Hung suspended on an air wave of her making. She winked and two struck his face, bloodying his nose and eyes. He dove to the floor and covered his head with his arms. “Get her already, you great, wet blanket!”

Scy looked for the drow or another accomplice, but she saw her, the lubber fiend and… “Cuculaiin?” She turned around and met his sad gaze. “You’re working with these people?”

“They said I could get close to Danu if I helped them,” he replied in a small voice. He yanked the glaive free and dropped it. “I wanted to know why she took my mother away.”

Scyanatha didn’t need to ask who Cuculaiin’s mother was. Looking at his face she could see the echo of features in the sweet-natured creature Danu took as a lover centuries ago. “You said you lost your mother when you were thirty.”

“She left me years before,” he said, unable to look at her. His gaze fixed to the floor he continued, “I wanted to meet Danu and ask why my mother; who was mortal; who I wouldn’t have for long. Why Danu chose her over all the others?  _Why did she take my mother away from me?!”_ Cuculaiin’s voice echoed up into the rafters. Darkness crept into the low notes of his tone. The floor tiles cracked under his feet and a thin thread of lava oozed through the gap.

“Oh, Cu,” Scy sympathised. She wanted to comfort him, but the heat radiating from his skin she knew she‘d wind up with an accidental burn her if she tried. Instead, she turned back to the lubber fiend, back on his feet and scrubbing blood from his face. “You tricked this poor, innocent boy into helping you.” Cuculaiin was their fall guy. The one everyone would blame for Danu‘s death. Scy knew it from the smirk on the lubber fiend’s face and wanted to drive a stiletto into his ear. “You’ll pay.”

“Oh, will I?“ the lubber fiend mocked, making faces. He danced a jig and hurled his knife at her. Scy deflected it with another bead, but she realised she was running low on ammunition. She‘d scattered jasper beads in several palace rooms. _I shall use what’s to hand._ As well as a narcissist, Danu had a rock fetish. It amused the Goddess to call diamonds such whenever the dwarf merchants visited. Small torments, she called them. She‘d had the throne room decorated with gilding and diamonds. 

“Yes, you will,” Scyanatha bit out, flicking her fingers. The diamonds ripped free of the anchors and shot into the lubber fiend‘s head. The large cut stone left an ugly puncture wound as it exited the other side. Covered in blood the stone hit the wall, leaving brain matter splattered. It fell to the ground in unison with the lubber fiend. “Never doubt my word,” she said in a chirpy tone. She turned to Cuculaiin. “What did you think would happen trusting them?” She pocketed the other diamonds that floated towards her.

“You’re not my mother!” His was deeper, filled with fire and fury. “I’ll kill Danu!” His yellow eyes narrowed. He swung. Scy had no time to avoid. He knocked her to the far wall. She grunted at the pain lashing her spine. It shocked her. She knew demons tended to have inner demons, Abaddon kept theirs on a tight leash, but Cu’s gentleness blinded her.

Cuculaiin flew back, hurled by an unseen force and hit the wall. “What’s the meaning of this!”  

“Lady Danu!” Scyanatha wondered where the Goddess was during all this. _Likely watching the amusement from some safe space._  She went to stand before her. “My Lady, there are assassins in the palace.”

Danu’s cold laugh accompanied an eye-roll. She stalked past Scyanatha and before the lubber fiend. “Pathetic.” A derisive sniff and divine light consumed him. A small pile of white ask remained that blew away on the breeze. Danu walked toward Cuculaiin.

“No, my Lady!” Scy dashed around the gilded Goddess and put herself between them. “Cuculaiin is an Acolyte of Las. He’s innocent!”

“Really?” Danu said in an arch voice. “And yet we heard him plotting our death.”

“You deserve to die!” Cuculaiin’s voice returned to normal and his fiery aura extinguished. He appeared on the verge of tears. “You took my mother!”

The pink-haired Goddess blinked several times, her face oddly frozen. “Your–” she laughed, a harsh sound devoid of comfort. “She was your mother? Didn’t act motherly, did she? It was why we liked her.”

Cuculaiin bared his teeth, revealing a small set of fangs. “She was motherly! When you finally cast her off she was the most wonderful–” his face crumpled and he sobbed into his hands.

Scyanatha hugged him. “Must you be so cruel? He’s not even grown.”

“You forget your place,” Danu said in a dangerous tone. “You may be the future ruler of the Aos Si, but you are _our_ subject. You pay homage to us!” Her ruby eyes turned black.

“Yes, my Lady,” Scy replied, inclining her head. “But Cuculaiin isn’t deserving of your wrath. The assassins are.”

The Goddess snorted inelegantly. “What assassin could kill us?”

“Me!” An arrow pierced Danu’s shoulder. She cried out and staggered, putting herself behind Scyanatha. “Hello, mother.” The spat title dripped with hate.

“Dian Cecht?” Danu clutched the arrow shaft. “Why are you doing this, my child?”

“I’m not your child!” Dian Cecht’s handsome face twisted to ugliness. “You cared nothing for me unless it was to prove a point to some other fae! That’s not how a mother acts!”

“Well,” the Goddess ripped the arrow out and threw it to the floor. “No one ever said we needed to be maternal to give birth.” She stalked a path to her throne and swept her long cloak out over the arms as she sat down. She eyed her son with malice.

Scy shook her head, disbelieving the Goddess’s callousness, even though she was legendary for it. She whispered in Cuculaiin‘s ear, “We need to leave before we end up caught in the middle.”

“No, she needs to pay for what she did.” Cu’s hands came down from his face, revealing the hopelessness he felt. “She doesn’t care she hurt her own son. That she hurt me. She’s a beast, not a Goddess.”

“You cannot kill her for being heartless,” Scyanatha replied. “If you get swept along with Dian Cecht’s revenge then the entire Unseelie court will hunt you down. At least she will forgive him, being her heir.”

Scy withdrew, taking Cuculaiin with her, as Dian Cecht came fully into the room and walked by them, shooting her a sly smile as he passed. “You’re right, mother,” he addressed the Goddess a few feet from the throne. “No one said you had to be maternal, but no one also said you were to rule over the Unseelie for eternity, otherwise why was I born?”

At that the doors to the chamber flew open and in surged a platoon of fae, led by Aine, Danu’s sister.

“We’re in the middle of a coup,” Scy said, worrying for the state of hers and Cuculaiin’s continued good health. They were witnesses, and everyone knew what happened to them. She looked for an exit. The windows were out of reach. If she transformed into her steel wolf they might escape, but perhaps not.

A warm wind blew into her ear. A creak caused Scy to glance over her shoulder. “A secret passage,” she whispered. She should have expected as much; Danu had exits everywhere to allow her lovers to slip about the palace unnoticed.

With Aine and Dian Cecht occupied trying to overthrow the Goddess; still seated on her throne looking utterly bored, Scyanatha and Cuculaiin slipped out and down a passageway until they reached another bed chamber.

“This was my mother’s room,” Cu said, looking around.

“Did you come here?” Scy was wondering how he knew so much about Danu; it can’t all have come from Dian Cecht, who was about as observant as his mother.

“A couple of times. My father begged her to return home, but Danu infatuated her. It wasn’t until she grew too old and became unpretty that Danu cast mother off.” Cuculaiin’s hands curled into fists. “She’s evil.”

“Danu is a Goddess,” Scy shrugged. “They only care about their own pleasures and that their subjects don’t embarrass or annoy them.”

Faint yells carried down the secret passageway and Scyanatha said, “We should leave before we end up footnotes in the Unseelie historicals.”

“I could kill her,” Cu muttered, pausing.

“No.” Scy put her hand on his arm. “You’re a good person, Cuculaiin.”

He looked up at her, yellow eyes filled with fire. “I’m not. I’m a demon.”

“One of my dearest friends is also,” she replied. “They struggle with many aspects daily, but one thing never in doubt is they have a pure soul.” She put both her hands on his shoulders and smiled at him. “Don’t let your species dictate who you should become.”

Cu hugged her tight. “Thanks, Scyanatha,” he mumbled, drawing back. “I think you’re gonna be a great mother one day.”

Taken aback, Scy’s tinkling laugh was short. “We should find the twins and leave.”

“We’re here.” Their voices came from all around.

Scyanatha felt like slapping herself. _Of course they are. Who else could open a secret passage right then?_ “Show yourselves.”

The twins shimmered into view, matching smug smiles on their faces. “We saved your lives.”

“Yes,” Scy gritted her teeth, knowing what she needed to say next would be difficult. “Thank you.”

“Now Cu can give us the pretty apple we want.” They both held a hand out expectantly.

“We don’t have time for this,” Scyanatha said as the distant sounds of fighting overlaid with approaching footsteps. She hustled the trio out of the bedroom. They made it around the corridor as someone burst into the room. “Go!”

 

Running down the circular staircase shouts came from above. They reached a landing and Scyanatha manipulated one of the stone statues into becoming a barrier. It stomped, blocking the stairs and swinging its sword. 

“We’ll die here!” the twins squealed in unison as arrows shot past their heads.

“If we spent less time chatting and more time leaving we’d have a better chance!” Scy yelled back, though knew she shared the blame.

Cuculaiin formed a fireball in his hands, golden glow of mana eaten up by orange and red. He lobbed it without looking. Screams and the stink of burnt flesh trailed down the stairs. “I feel bad now.”

“Because you are a good person,” Scy replied, twisting her fingers and firing a dozen diamonds. The sound of them ricocheting off the walls and railing, then going silent apart from screams of victims satisfied her, in a morbid way.

 

The four Acolytes reached the ground floor and wasted little time taking out the few guards left behind. Cu wrapped lava around Scyanatha’s levitating diamonds, and the twins added extra force to the wind. Scy flung the projectiles with deadly accuracy. Lava splattered. The hidden gems punched holes in armour and flesh. The men and women fell to the floor, screaming.

“Nicely done, everyone,” Scy complimented as they made it outside and ran towards the cover of the forest.

“How do we reach Las? Didn’t you say this was a different realm?” Cu asked as he caught his breath.

“How did Dian Cecht convince you to join him?” Now they were safe Scyanatha wanted answers.

His expression turned melancholy. “He overheard me with Jenshi in a tavern. I was upset. He said he could help me get back at Danu for taking my mother away.”

Scyanatha raised her eyebrows at the mention of the amorous half-blood; she wouldn’t have expected the two to be friends. “What about the orchard wood carving?” 

“He said to burn it to make it look old so none of the other Acolytes would notice it.”

“Because of you we almost died!” Ari and Ira stood on either side of Cuculaiin and shrieked in his ears.

“That’s enough!” Scy pulled them away before he wound up deaf. “Because of you my husband could lay dead, or have you forgotten that?” Her stern glare made Ira cringe.

“Oh.”

“Yes, ‘oh’. You have no right to blame Cuculaiin for being naïve. At least he had good reasons for doing what he did.” Scy let the pair go, and they returned to sulking.

“Er, Scyanatha, how do we get back to Las? I mean, we can’t stay here forever. Dian Cecht will find us.” Cuculaiin’s brows pinched together.

“I don’t know,” Scy admitted. “When I came before there was a portal ready to return us.” She had to think of something. Cuculaiin was right, Dian Cecht would come looking for them, if he succeeded killing Danu. If not, the Goddess might well hold it against them for not aiding her, even though she was almost invulnerable, while Scyanatha would have died from a single bane-blood arrow.

A faint chattering on the wind made her frown and shake her head. “What are you two doing now?” She turned to the twins, impatient and exhausted with their antics.

“Talking to our sister,” Ari replied in a petulant tone. “We’re telling her we don’t enjoy Las and want to go home.”

“We’re not in Las, we’re in the Unseelie realm.”

Ira tutted. “No wonder she can’t find the right path. You’re such an idiot, Ari.”

“Am not!”

“Yes, you are! Queen Bee there has only said a bunch of times we’re in Danu’s realm and you still tell Ria that we’re in Las!” Ira rolled her silver eyes and sighed.

 _Queen Bee?_ Scyanatha raised one finely arched eyebrow. She was so glad the other sister decided against joining the Acolytes. “What exactly is it you’re asking?”

They didn’t reply. Instead, they wafted further into the forest, leaving Scy and Cu no choice but to follow.

They stopped when they reached a clearing. It would have been unremarkable except for the fact it was a perfect circle.

“A faery ring,” Scy whispered. She’d not seen one this large for many centuries. In the centre of the glade were two giant stones, propped against each other, the space beneath large enough to walk through, if Scy ducked slightly.

“That’s our way back to Las,” the twins said in smug tones.

Scy resisted the urge to both slap them and roll her eyes. They were helpful, but they were still intolerable.

 

Walking back into Order of Mana Scyanatha allowed herself to relax. Her team made it back with no further trouble and she had even spied Culvers on the way in and informed him what had taken place in Danu’s realm. It surprised him to hear she ended up there instead of on her proper hunt and promised to look into matters.

The twins floated after Culvers, trying to cling to his muscled forearms, leaving Scy with Cuculaiin.

“I should try to find my friend,” he mumbled, keeping his head down.

“I meant what I said, that we’re friends now,” her tone was kind, even after the mess he’d gotten them into.

Cu’s head came up. “Really?” he said, too eager. He ducked his head again. “I mean, I’d like that.”

“Go find your friend,” she said, realizing with amusement she sounded motherly.

“What should I do with this?” Cuculaiin held up the golden apple he’d been carrying around in his knapsack.

“It’s an apple of discord,” Scy said tapping her lower lip in a thoughtful gesture. “Go toss it in Uwe’s room for me.”

Cuculaiin nodded, waving as he left, leaving Scyanatha to track down her husband and see what mess he got himself into.

 

 

 


	15. Loose Ends: Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taking place during the evening and following morning of the hunts, we see what the returning groups got up to and see a few puzzles pieces fall into place.

Tundra paused his conversation with Salem, cupped his hands around his mouth and bellowed, “Over here, Scy!” The dark looks he got from people in the common room had him ducking his head and smothering a laugh.

Scyanatha slinked between furniture and took one of the empty armchairs, saying, “I’m surprised you’re back so soon. Did your hunt not go well?”

“It would have, if it’d been a proper hunt,” Tundra said, shaking his head. “Uwe put a rogue card in to help one of his coven members.”

“That doesn’t surprise me,” she replied, having known him longer than most and well aware of his tricks.

“What about you? How come you’re back so early? I’d have figured you’re a total badass,” Salem said.

“Mine also didn’t go quite to plan,” said replied, briefly explaining what happened.

“A guy _died?”_ Salem’s eyes were wide. He knew the hunts were dangerous, but he didn’t think they were _that_ dangerous.

“I informed Culvers when my team returned. A Far Darrig: an Unseelie Fae,” she clarified when she took in Salem’s blank look. “I didn’t get his name, but it seems likely Dian Cecht bribed him into helping and when his usefulness ran out...” She sighed and shrugged.

Tundra pulled a face. “You and Seth weren’t on Danu’s Christmas card list before this happened, what’s she going to be like now?”

“At the least, it will be banishment from the Unseelie court.” Scy smiled and tittered as she added, “But I hated going to those events anyway, so it’s hardly a punishment, even if Danu would see it that way.” She then sobered. “The worst she could do is kill Seth.”

“Hang on, you tick off a Goddess and she kills your husband? She’s cracked,” Salem snorted.

“Though a half-blood, Seth’s mortal and will die one day. To take him before we’ve had any time together would be the ultimate cruelty she could inflict upon me.” Scy shut her eyes, not wanting to imagine such a thing.

Tundra leant over and punched Salem’s knee, distracting him from Scyanatha while she regained her calm. “When you love someone you don‘t want them to die,” he said, voice wry.

“No, really?” Salem widened his eyes and let his mouth hang open in mock shock. “Someone needs to put that on a t-shirt and sell them at the market! ‘I love you so much I don‘t want you to die’.”

“All right, smartass,” Tundra chuckled. “Some of us have higher criteria in a mate than ‘alive and kicking’.”

“But that’s the best, most specific list of necessary qualities. I took days to make that list.”

“You joke now, but will you act so blasé if you fall in love?” Scy regained her calm and was interested in making mischief.

“Does this question have a multiple choice answer?” Salem replied, evasive.

“Only if your love life does,” she said with an audacious wink.

As the trio laughed, Tundra thanked whatever divine force made him a lesser target for Scy‘s risque teasing.

“Have you seen anyone else yet?” she asked once their chuckles died down.

Both men shook their heads. 

“We’ve been here a while too,” Salem added.

“Seth will return before dark,” Tundra said, picking up the unspoken concern. “You know he hates camping.”

Mild laughter answered, though all three Acolytes found it hard to hide their worry for their loved ones.

~*~*~

“Give!” Phanuel snatched the flowers from Lerki like they were more valuable than gold. “Took your time,” he added, flicking his fingers at them to leave.

“You’re welcome,” Imogen said sarcastically, as the team left his office. “He didn’t give us time to explain about the others.”

They left the satyrs, nymphs and Acolytes missing their memories mingling locked in one of the smaller gardens, so they wouldn’t wander off while someone made a cure.

“I still have plenty to make the antidote,” Lerki replied.

“That’s a relief,” Rhovan said, “I’m tired of not recognizing anyone.” He glanced at the liubul’k who almost knocked him flying when they arrived. He frowned recalling Raemina’s expression when he asked whose it was. “Sorry, Louise,” he said again, earning an odd look from the companion.

“Rhoe and Lerki will have you fixed up in no time!” Xyl patted him on the back. He directed them towards the alchemy lab and went to find his partner, Cowan.

“I think Imogen and I should go to the infirmary for our injuries first,” Raemina said in a regretful voice. She wanted to be there when Rhovan recovered his memory, but she knew it was important they get a clean bill of health.

It was after sunset when they arrived, but the Order teemed with life. The general conversation floating around was anger towards the High Elders for misleading new recruits. Older Acolytes loudly pointed out results were far better than last time they organised a hunt, so people shouldn‘t complain.

Many Acolytes asked how Inari could let something like this happen, but it turned out they weren’t aware of the mishap, since Trenfal took it on himself to act as a buffer between the head of the Order of Mana and everyone else.  

Imogen and Raemina swapped annoyed looks as they took in circulating rumours. “It will upset Inari once they hear,” Raemina predicted. She wasn’t sure what an angry Inari looked like, but she knew she didn’t want to be nearby when they expressed themself.

“Let’s hope Trenfal’s man enough to take full responsibility,” Imogen said, but privately doubted he was. The blond elf was always eager to give out advice, but was never around when consequences came home to roost.

~*~*~

Entering the infirmary, Imogen waved to her sister, Rhoe.

“You’re safe,” she said, coming to give her sibling a hug. “Is Xyl back yet?”

Imogen nodded. “You won’t believe where we found him,” she said in an amused voice. Now the ordeal was over she could laugh, as long as she didn’t examine it too deeply. “Raemina needs her hand looking at and my shoulder could do with checking too.”

As Raemina went off with Ayasha, Imogen sat in a chair so her sister could examine her.

Rhoe wiped her brow, pushing back a wayward strand of dark hair. “What is this?” She frowned at the healing wound. “Imogen, how are you alive?”

“Luck and a magical flower,” she replied with a mild laugh. “Sounds like something Disney made up.”

Rhoe blinked, having little idea who Disney was, but the flower caught her interest. “You found the sanjeevani? No one has ever brought one back.”

“Yeah, and I know why.” Imogen pictured the Al mi’raj and pulled a face. “All finished?” She looked at the new binding. “Salem back yet?” she said in a casual tone. “Did his team get over two hunts done?” She was eager to find out how he fared and if she’d won their bet.

“ _Two?”_ Rhoe repeated the number with surprise. “Most people can’t even finish one!”

Imogen’s eyes widened; did her team win? “Oh,” she said; thinking about teams had reminded her. “Lerki needs you in the laboratorium.”

Rhoe blinked at the subject change. “All right, I’ll tell Ayasha and be right along.”

Imogen grinned at the way her sister spoke the name. “You do that,” she said, tone saucy. “I’ve got a bet to win.” She jumped up from her seat and winced as her shoulder twinged. “What do you think about this?” she whispered in Rhoe’s ear her idea for a forfeit.

“That’s evil. Do it,” Rhoe replied, laughing.

~*~*~

Xyl hurried along the hallway toward Phanuel’s office. Having gone to the laboratorium with Lerki and Rhovan, the trio discovered a thief turned the place over during the hunt. He agreed to tell Phan, while Lerki tried to make the antidote by himself, since Rhoe wasn’t around either.

“Oh!” Xyl avoided crashing into Phanuel as he exited the office in a rush.

“You! Come with me!” He grabbed Xyl’s wrist and dragged him along, giving no explanation why. “You three!” He bellowed at Scyanatha, Tundra and Salem as they exited the common room chatting. He shoved a note into Scy’s slender hands with the instruction to, “Tell her to be ready at once!” That done, he passed the bemused Acolytes, dragging Xyl.

“Phanuel, we have a little problem in the lab,” Xyl tried to explain.

“Don’t care,” he replied.

“But, someone has stolen something from the supplies,” Xyl continued.

“Still don’t care,” Phanuel said.

“Should we search for the thief, or at least notify people to look for whoever did it?”

Phanuel paused and sent a look of almost-hatred at Xyl. “I. Don’t. Care,” he drawled, sounding out each word as if he was talking to a child. He then continued pulling Xyl down the hallway until they reached the laboratorium. “Out of the way!” He shoved Lerki aside and knocked the pestle and mortar he’d been using to grind up the flowers.

Lerki made a startled noise, jewellery whistling, snatching hold before it spilled. “Phanuel! We need that to cure everyone!”

At the blank and disinterested look, Lerki’s eyes went to Xyl, who shrugged.

“He wasn’t interested.”

Lerki frowned. “Phanuel, I need your help with this. I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Busy,” Phan grunted, taking flowers and placing them in a container. He went into a complicated ritual of grabbing potion ingredients, barking at both Xyl and Lerki to, “Get that and be quick about it!”

Xyl could see why Phanuel brought him; he needed at least three pairs of hands to help.

Rhovan watched with his head tilted, absorbing everything and trying to work out what potion was being made; it seemed very complicated.

At last, Phanuel poured the final mixture into a small vial, having reduced it to almost nothing. He held it up to the light and examined. “Excellent. Perfect color.” He then looked at the confused Rhovan and tutted. “Stick the flowers in a pot and add periwinkle seeds and rosemary, boil it up and when the first bubble appears plunge the lot in a bucket of ice. As it cools, you need to detoxify a bunch of ashwagandha by boiling it with dandelions. Mix the two together when they’re both cold, strain and drink it neat.” He exited the room with the vial, leaving the rest wondering what he was up to.

~*~*~

Scy, Tundra and Salem took their time finding the place Phanuel sent them. The only thing written on Scy’s note were directions and markers. None one knew who to meet or why, but Phanuel wasn’t their High Elder and Salem was trying to get kicked out of Fluorite anyway, so insolence was a group decision.

“Is it just me or did Phan seem like he had a bigger stick up his ass than usual?” Salem commented, as they walked darkened pathways, lit by the soft glow of orbs filled with fireflies.

“Whatever’s riled up it’s none of our business,” Tundra replied. Both he and Scyanatha gradually grew more worried as the day ended and their spouses remained absent; not to mention the rest of their friends. Scyanatha even cornered Bracken and Abaddon at one point, demanding they inform her what they knew. No one reported deaths matching their group; small comfort for the time being.

“It could be the stress of the hunt,” Scy said. “It hasn’t exactly gone to plan.”

“There was a plan?” Salem laughed.

“I have my suspicions,” Scy replied seriously. “Some items Abaddon mentioned earlier were intriguing, to say the least.”

“You think Phanuel’s alchemy hunts match this errand he’s sent us on?” Tundra could see this being true. It also had him wondering the coincidence of Aina wanting alchemy items; did they have the same goal? He sighed heavily. “I’ll be glad when we‘re done with this ungodly mess and can get back to regular missions.”

Locating the house, which they stumbled on after wandering the woods for an hour looking for the right glade, Scy knocked on the door. She noted the cauldron shaped, iron knocker and wondered if the person within was a witch.

 _“_ Anyone home?” Salem cupped his hands around his mouth and bellowed, when no one came to the door. “Guess not,” he said, shrugging. “What I got from Phan, I figured someone waited.”

“That’s what Phanuel must’ve thought,” Tundra said. He walked around the cottage and peered in a window. “Empty,” he said, returning.

“We should return home,” Scy decided. “I, for one, am done.” She strode towards the path leading to Las.  

“She’s right,” Tundra said. “If it’s empty, there’s nothing we can do.” He and Salem caught up with her, only parting again when they reached the Sanctuary.   
Tundra and Scy went toward their homes, leaving Salem to pass along the message to Phanuel, since he lived in the barracks.

“Gee, thanks a bunch,” he said wryly to the pair as they parted company. “I won’t blame you if Phan turns me into a bug because of this.”

“Don’t worry,” Tundra replied in an even tone, “he wouldn’t turn you into a bug...he’d poison you. Take nothing he offers and you’ll be fine.”

“That makes me feel a ton better, T,” Salem snorted.

“Glad I could help,” he replied in a dry voice and walked off, chuckling to himself.

~*~*~

Entering the darkened cottage, Tundra’s brows came together: _Still not back._ It wasn’t like he or Nyima didn‘t go on missions and parted for days or weeks at a time. Dying while away was a real threat, but knowing that never stopped him worrying. His concerns were irrational; his wife was a seasoned warrior, fully capable of handling anything thrown at her. Yet he mentally climbed walls fighting the urge to have her back safe in his arms. Love had a lot to answer for.

He sat in an armchair, first moving Temia from the seat and plonking her on his lap. The little bailukee snuggled into him and went back to sleep, as he stared at the board set up on the table before him. He and Nyima were in the middle of a game and he sighed as he studied the moves open to him before growing frustrated with looking at it.

“Hello, lover.”

“Nyima!” Tundra jumped in his seat, not expecting her to sneak up on him. “What did you call me?” The entire time he’d known her, she had never once used an endearment for him. The closest she got was calling him “Jingyi” or “husband.” This change immediately set him on edge as he took in the flirtatious look in her eye. He got up and Temia plopped onto the floor blinking sleepily. She snorted, shook her head and waddled away into the kitchen, ignoring Nyima. The animal was symbiotic. It lived because it relied on Nyima to provide food and gave aid and support in return. She never ignored her. Adored her to a slavish and slobbering degree. It confirmed tundra’s suspicions; this woman was not his wife. “Who are you?”

“What do you mean?” she replied, fluttering eyelashes, smile coy.

He shook his head. “You have no clue, whoever you are.”

The woman tried to cuddle him, but he grabbed her wrist and twisted. Nyima‘s face contorted with pain, but he felt nothing. It wasn‘t Nyima. “Who are you?” he said in a low and dangerous tone.

“Lemme go!” Umi’s voice coming from Nyima’s lips startled him and he released his grip.

“Change back,” he demanded, not wanting to look at the fake any longer.

“Oh, come on,” Umi said, waggling Nyima‘s eyebrows. “You weren’t interested in how I looked normally, but it’s not cheating if I look like her.” She swept her hand down, gesturing to the blue-skinned form.

“You’re disgusting.” He grabbed Umi’s wrist again, in half a mind to rip her entire arm off, then noticed she was wearing one of Nyima’s bangles. “That’s what you were doing earlier.” He yanked it off and Umi reverted to her true form, as two wisps flitted free of the bangle. Tundra shoved her out of the house and slammed the door. “It’s official, today couldn’t possibly get worse.”

~*~*~

“What do you mean it was empty?” Phanuel’s voice echoed along the corridor, scaring several people on their way to bed. He wasn’t the type for screaming at people, not when he could get his point across more subtly.

“Did I stutter?” Salem replied. It had been a long-ass day, and Scy and Tundra dumped him right in a steaming pile of crud when they opted him into telling Phan the bad news. Obviously Phanuel was expecting someone to be there judging from his reaction. Salem’s grin stretched as he slowly repeated himself. “We. Went. To. The. Place. You. Sent. Us. Your. Directions. Suck. By. The. Way. The. Cottage. Was. Empty. So. We. Came. Back.”

Phanuel bared his teeth and looked like he was about to hit him.

“I’ll hit you back,” Salem warned, no longer in the mood to play about. “I’ll hit you harder.”

With a cry of annoyance, Phanuel took off down the corridor, shoving aside anyone in his way, yelling for Culvers and Uwe.

“Well, that was interesting,” Salem commented blandly, heading for his barracks and to bed. He turned a corner and ran smack into Imogen. “Sorry,” he yawned. “Hey, you’re back.”

“You just noticed?” Imogen teased. “How did your thing go?”

Pinching the bridge of his nose as he reordered his thoughts, he replied, “Crappily. We got screwed over by Uwe.”

“Sounds painful.” She grinned.

“Ha! You don’t know the half of it!” Salem was about to go into detail when another yawn tugged his mouth. “Sorry,” he said. “I think I’m two-thousand percent done for today. That Umi is exhausting.”

Imogen didn’t know Umi, but Salem’s face suggested she was a trial on top of the hunt. She walked with him towards the barracks and at the doors to Fluorite handed him a piece of paper.

“What’s this?” He went to unfold it and she put her hand over his.

“It’s your forfeit.” Imogen winked and headed upstairs to Quartz barracks, laughing when she heard the paper rustle and Salem broke into laughter filled cursing.

 ~*~*~

Rhovan eyed the cup of murky looking mixture Lerki held. It didn’t look like anything he wanted to put in his mouth, but if he wanted his memory back, then he needed to drink. Still, he didn‘t want to put in his mouth. 

“If you don’t you will never regain your memory,” Lerki pointed out. “I’m sorry it looks so...” He couldn’t think of a word to describe the foul potion he’d brewed.

“Vile?” Xyl offered, wrinkling his nose. It took them and Rhoe to get the antidote prepared how Phanuel described. No one told them getting the afflicted to drink would be the bigger challenge.

“Close your eyes and hold your nose,” Rhoe suggested, carefully pouring doses into vials for other patients. Once she was sure it worked as it should—and it should since she had a hand in its preparation—she would head to the gardens with Xyl to give the antidote to the other poor people who needed it.

“I want to,” Rhovan said, as he brought the cup to his lips then moved it away, “but something is telling me I shouldn’t.”

Raemina entered the room. “You are still here. Rhovan, have you–” She stopped when he shook his head and gestured at the cup in his hand.

“We have the antidote, but I don’t want to drink it.” He laughed awkwardly and rubbed the back of his neck.

“I said he should close his eyes and hold his nose,” Rhoe repeated her advice.

“Perhaps I can help?” Raemina approached and paused as she caught a whiff of the potion. “Yes, I understand why you would not wish to drink. Is there something to alter the taste?” She looked at Lerki as she spoke and he shook his head.

“Phanuel said it must be neat.”

“Well. That is awkward.” Raemina’s brow furrowed as she considered a solution.

“Think of something else while you drink,” Xyl offered in a cheerful voice.

“I’m still advising holding your nose and closing your eyes method,” Rhoe said with light laughter.

“Perhaps that is the only course of action,” Raemina agreed.

Rhovan pulled a face.

“Do you not wish to remember your past?” she said, looking at him through her eyelashes and smiling.

Rhovan frowned, wondering what Raemina implied. He’d wondered if they might be more than friends. Her subtle pressure aroused his curiosity. If he didn’t drink, he’d never remember what they meant to each other. “All right,” he said, taking a deep breath and regretting it when he caught a whiff of the potion. “This stinks,” he muttered, pinching his nose between finger and thumb and squeezing his eyes shut. He knocked the disgusting concoction back and gagged. 

Lerki rushed over and clapped his hand over Rhovan’s mouth to help prevent him spitting it out. “You must swallow it all,” he said, as Raemina and Xyl grabbed one of Rhovan’s arms and helped hold him still. A few chokes, a further gag and he got it down. The trio moved back and let him catch his breath.

“I feel sick,” he said before passing out and hitting the floor.

~*~*~

“Calm down, Phan. We’ll find her.”

“Get the Acolytes assembled now!”

“After the day they’ve had? You think they’re gonna go trampling through the woods and who-knows-where looking for –”

“I don’t care! I don’t give a damn what the Acolytes have been through today! They have to find her!”

“We’ll look ourselves. She can’t have gone far.”

The three men left the office and hurried from the Order of Mana: Phanuel heading for the cottage he’d sent Scyanatha, Tundra and Salem to, so he could see with his own eyes it was empty; Culvers towards the coast, knowing the person they looked for enjoyed the beach, and Uwe headed toward the Varda aufhocker coven, having figured out why his sister wanted those stupid alchemy ingredients.


	16. Loose Ends: Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We finally find out what Phanuel, Uwe and Aina were up to this whole time.

 

Culvers rubbed tired eyes and sighed; it was almost dawn, and he’d been out all night searching. What he wanted was bed, but he couldn’t because Phanuel would pull him out again. He hadn’t even had time to check on his Acolytes’ casualties; he was sure the count rose overnight.

He growled as he entered his house; unhappy how the others steamrolled him into including his Order in the hunt, and not even Inari’s logical explanation soothed his annoyance. The requests from the outlying villages were the only reason he allowed his people to join in the farce.

“Hal?” His girlfriend, Erina turned over, staring bleary-eyed at him. “Where have you been?”

“Helping Phanuel,” he replied, annoyed at the Fluorite High Elder for his secretive behavior the past few weeks; if someone told Culvers what was going on, he’d have helped. But he guessed friendship didn’t matter as much to Phanuel as it did to him. “You okay?”

Erina nodded. “I woke up twice thanks to this burn, but I guess it could have been worse.”

He nodded. “At least you’re alive.” He tried to put faces to the dead Abaddon listed the day before and found he couldn’t; he was lax as a High Elder. “I’ve got to head back out, but if you’ve got nothing else planned today would you mind seeing to the Order for me? I must know who died and sort out condolence letters.” He pressed a brief kiss to her lips and then headed to the door. “This is an ungodly mess. If an Acolyte doesn’t punch Phanuel I’m going to.”

Erina murmured, “You can’t put the blame wholly on him.”

“Sure I can. He needs to learn how to lock doors. He’s a High Elder, he needs to know the chain of command starts and ends with him.”

She didn’t argue; responsibility was one of Culvers’s bugbears and he often argued with the other two heads because of their unwillingness to take on as much as him. “Good luck,” she said as he left.

 

“Where have you been?” Phanuel rounded on Culvers the second he entered his office.

Culvers set aside his first reaction of punching Phanuel and said, “Out looking. Where else would I be?”

Phan pulled a face at this. “Sorry,” he replied, drooping with exhaustion. “Uwe disappeared, and I thought you left me on my own.”

“You know me better than that,” Culvers replied, scowling. “No luck?”

“No.” Phanuel stared out the window. People milled about and he spotted a familiar head of green hair in the middle. “Guess we weren’t the only ones up all night,” he said, explaining when Culvers came to see what he meant. “I should have sent others to help them, but I wasn’t thinking straight.”

“They look like they’re handling it,” he replied. “I always figured those two for flakes, but they stepped up.” He gestured at Xyl and Lerki.

“We may not look much, but we get the job done,” Phanuel grinned half-heartedly. He then sighed and pressed his forehead to the glass. “What am I going to do?”

Culvers patted him on the shoulder. “Get some rest,” he suggested, tightening his grip as Phanuel made to argue. “The hard part’s done; you have the remedy. I’ll send people out.”

Phanuel sighed and nodded. “I had Scyanatha, Tundra and Salem. Use them. I’d rather not have this spread about like idle gossip.”

“All right.” Culvers shook his head as Phanuel sloped off. Idiot, he thought, as he called three floydrake from the rafters and attached notes to them. “Scyanatha Dubglach,” he said to one, still butchering her last name. “Tundra and Salem Allaway.” He opened the window and the three flower dragons left. Sitting down in his chair, Culvers put his head on the desk thinking he’d shut his eyes for a few minutes.

 

~*~*~

 

Scyanatha rose at the crack of dawn, watching the sun slowly peep its way over the horizon. She’d gone to bed late, literally falling asleep trying to stay up waiting for Seth to walk through the door. When she did finally drift off, she endured nightmares of him arriving home and being struck down by a furious Danu. She woke with a cry, eyes wet with tears.

Not one to sit around at home driving herself crazy with what ifs, she was about to head out and assist in the infirmary when a tapping noise at the window drew her attention. A floydrake banged its head against the glass, tilting its head and then repeating the action, as though surprised it couldn’t pass through the pane.

“Silly thing,” she said, opening the window and letting it in. “You are obviously not Vyxen’s.” She smiled at the thought of the arrogant companion being dumb enough to headbutt a window. “What is this you have?” She took the note, and the floydrake flew off again, narrowly avoiding colliding with a tree. “Orders from Culvers?” 

“ _Team: Scyanatha Dubhgleck, Tundra, Salem Allaway. Mission: Locate the person residing in the forest cottage_.” 

“Who is this person, and why are they so important?” she wondered aloud as she headed through the Sanctuary toward Tundra’s house.

She spotted him exiting as she arrived and she nodded at the note in his hand. “You have the orders as well.”

“Yeah. Better than sitting around kicking my heels waiting.” He’d thought about doing another hunt, but couldn’t bring himself to team up again with Umi.

“We had best go meet with Salem,” Scy voiced, leading the way.

 

“Anyone know who this VIP is?” Salem asked as they returned from the coast.

Tundra and Scyanatha shrugged, with Scy adding, “Whoever it is, Phanuel doesn’t want anyone to know and convinced Culvers to loan us to him.”

“There’s plenty Phanuel doesn‘t want people to know,” Tundra joked with a wry lilt. “I can‘t remember him caring about people before. It’d be nice to have a description.”

Scyanatha hummed in agreement. “I assume they will know we’re searching for them when we find them. There must be few places left to look, unless they wandered through an active portal.”

Both men pulled faces at this. “So they could be anywhere in Illthdar,” Salem said. “Not it!” he declared before the others could volunteer him to tell Phanuel like the night before.

“But you did such a good job,” Scy teased.

“Still not it,” Salem said. “No backsies.”

“I could help.” A timid voice came from behind.

The group turned as one and Scy introduced Cuculaiin to the others. “I understand now why you were placed in Quartz guard,” she said, complimenting him on his stealth. “You could help us how?”

“People don’t notice me much, so they say things like I’m not there.” Cu smiled a little sadly at this. “When I was in the Varda castle I heard that aufhocker woman, Aina, talking about Phanuel.”

“What did she say?” Tundra was already anticipating the worst if it came from the Vardas.

“That he’d kill her if he found out something she’d done, but she had to do it.” The demon shrugged. “It was hard to hear above Ari and Ira’s complaining.”

“What do you wanna bet what she did was kidnap that person Phan is freaking out to find?” Salem couldn’t help but chuckle. “Their castle’s Fort Knox?”

“Right,” Scy confirmed. “Getting in without invitation is difficult.”

“I think we’ll manage it,” Tundra said, relishing the challenge.

“Thank you, Cu,” Scy said, smiling.

“Can I come with?” he replied in a rush. “I’m an Acolyte too.”

She was about to deny the request when Tundra and Salem both replied, “Yes,” and she couldn’t refuse without sounding like an overbearing mother hen.

“You were on Scy’s team yesterday?” Salem said conversationally as they hurried towards the castle.

Cu nodded.

“So, I guess you didn’t have anything else planned for today?” 

“I went to find one of my friends, but he had an accident and didn’t remember me.” Cuculaiin’s expression turned sad. “The Fluorite Acolytes are trying to cure everyone and I asked if I could help them, but they said my horns might get in the way.”

Tundra eyed Cuculaiin’s horns and wondered what they were doing that would mean a helper might end up skewering someone. “You’re more than welcome to help us. You probably have a good idea of the layout of the castle.”

Yellow eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled, Cu nodded. “I remember the whole of the downstairs and the dungeons.”

“That’s better than most,” Scy commented. “Even when they invite guests in they erase their memories afterwards.”

 

Arriving soon after, it was put to Salem and Scy to provide the distraction, while the more stealthy Tundra and Cuculaiin infiltrated the castle.

“Making a ruckus is what I do best.” Salem grinned.

“We know,” Tundra replied in a dry tone. “Don’t be a hero.” 

“You’re no fun anymore,” Salem said, mock pouting.

“Guess the bromance is over,” Scy quipped as Tundra opened his mouth to say exactly the same thing.

“Aw, and I was gonna ask you to be my bro forever.” Salem stuck his lip out as far as it could go, making himself look like he was in a gurning competition.

“My quota of idiot friends is full,” Tundra chuckled. “Try outs are next year.”

“So cold, so heartless, so –”

“Delaying the mission,” Scy finished, giving the joking men a stern look she reserved for board meetings.

“Yes, ma’am,” Tundra said, gesturing for Cuculaiin to go ahead of him, pointing out a thin ledge that ran along the outside of the bridge. A tight fit, and long way down if either fell.

Scy waited until they were in position before she and Salem strode to the halfway point along the bridge. It was then two aufhocker warped into the space in front of them, baring their fangs and hissing like trekadisk. “Oh, pipe down,” Scy snapped, finding their antics ridiculous. “We want to speak with Aina.”

“She is not available,” one replied in a silky voice. She took a step forward and tried to mesmerize Scy with her silvery gaze.

“Is something wrong with your eyes?” Her lips twitched with amusement. “Only they appear to be looking in different directions.”

The aufhocker drew back and bared her teeth again, as Salem laughed.

“You two should come home for lunch,” the other aufhocker said, centering his attention on Salem, who clutched at his stomach and laughed even louder.

“You have got to be kidding me! Where do you guys get your lines from? I’ve gotta know! Is it _Twilight?”_ The glance between the pair made his laughter grow obnoxiously loud. “Oh my God I’m right!” He looked at Scy, simmering with amusement, her eyes trained on the middle distance where Tundra and Cu could been seen climbing over the wall and entering the castle like they owned it. “I thought my sister was pulling my leg when she said Eww based his behavior on Edward Cullen, but you guys took it as, what, a _fact sheet?”_ He held his belly and threw back his head, laughing to the skies.

“What did you just call Uwe?” the female snapped in a dangerous tone.

Scy put her hand to her weapon, sensing the change in atmosphere. They were still on distraction duty so the longer they drew attention the better chance Tundra and Cuculaiin had of finding their target.

Salem had a better way of keeping eyes on him: his great, big mouth. “I called him _Ewwww,”_ he said loudly, dragging the sound out. “Because he’s a cuddle-muffin of perversion!” He added a wink to further confuse the two, figuring vampires would have heightened senses, including hearing.

Unsurprisingly, the man in question sped towards them, with several following behind. “You again?” He pulled a face at Salem.

“Hi, babycakes!” Salem squealed in a silly voice. He then threw himself at Uwe and clamped his arms around his waist, bear hugging the life out of him. If it had been a normal human he had in his arms Salem might have hurt them. Since it was an aufhocker he could crush Uwe as much as he liked and it barely did a thing. The point was to keep all the attention on him and away from the castle, and he’d also complete part of his forfeit with Imogen if he could get Uwe to pucker up for him. He would be the only Allaway willing to in any lifetime, so Uwe better appreciate it.

“Let go of me, you idiot!” Uwe struggled, but found he couldn’t get away. Every time he twisted Salem secured his grip again, all the while grinning down at him and making him feel like some tiny, little weakling. He could hear the other aufhocker behind snickering and making almost silent comments; only his superior hearing picked them up, as they knew he would. “What do you want?” he wiggling, which only made him cross.

“Kissy kissy, vampey sweetheart.” Salem puckered his lips up, even though inside he was gagging at the thought. He’d have to get Scy to tell Imogen he completed this part of his forfeit because she’d never believe his word alone.

 

~*~*~

 

Tundra and Cuculaiin dived aside as Uwe and his group passed. Tundra smiled and muttered, “Salem,” as they waited in the foyer in case anymore appeared.

“Where do you think Aina would be?” Cuculaiin looked at the gothic decorations with a mixture of interest and dislike; some of it was to his taste, but it was far too dark overall.

“I’ve never been inside before,” Tundra admitted, scanning doors leading and trailing his blue gaze up the stairs. “I doubt she’ll be down here, and Uwe came from up there, so that’s got to be our best bet.”

The duo climbed the curving staircase which ended in a wide corridor. At the opposite end was another staircase. Guessing whichever room Uwe hurried from would be open, they ignored closed doors. 

“I suppose any aufhocker that wanted to be out during the day would have to put a barrier cream on,” Cu commented as they spied yet another person snoring away inside a pitch black room.

Tundra pulled a face. “You couldn’t have said that earlier?” It slipped his mind they couldn’t abide sunlight and Uwe constantly stank of the herbal sun cream Phanuel made for him; _he must send supplies to the other Vardas so they can guard their home during the day._

“I thought it was obvious,” Cuculaiin replied. “Sorry.”

Tundra shook his head, and they continued, discarding caution. They reached the end of the hallway in minutes. 

“Please, just take it!” Aina’s shrill pleading filtered down from a room above.

There was a muffled reply.

“Found them.” Tundra led the charge upstairs.

As they reached the top, an elf stumbled from a room and clung to the doorframe. Her face was deathly white and her brown hair hung limp about her face. Tundra recognised the Amber Order robes, but not the person wearing them. “Aina, please,” she said in a whisper of a voice. “My wish is to die without pain.”

“No!” Aina rushed from the room and came up short, her hand inches away from touching, unable to offer comfort. “I won’t allow it.” Voice cracking with emotion, she brushed aside tears spilling onto her cheeks. “I have the potion to turn you. The recipe is my own, so you won’t end up like _them,”_ she spat the last word with distaste.

“Phanuel will be furious,” she mumbled, speaking the name in such a way that made Tundra want to slap himself for not fitting things together; he’d lost some skills beaten into him by the Lim Tu. “Liana.”

Both women looked at him with shock, as much from him being there as having overheard them.

“No wonder you were being so sneaky,” he said to Aina. “Turning Phanuel’s sister into an aufhocker would start a war.”

Cuculaiin’s eyes went wide. “Phanuel has a sister?”

He nodded. “She was a rumour when I first arrived in Illthdar; the sick elf.”

“Don’t elves get sick?” Cu looked confused.

“Diseases aren’t common among fae,” Aina confirmed. “She’s not contagious, but try telling that to the rest of them!” She clenched her fists. “Phanuel put her out in the woods to keep her safe until he could find a cure, but he took too long and I found my own solution.”

“It is not a solution if I do not wish to take it,” Liana said, meek.

“I won’t let you leave me alone with all these freaks!” Aina shrieked. “You promised me!”

“I’m dying,” she said, as if she were talking about the weather.

“Aina!” Uwe’s appearance stopped the argument. “You said she wasn’t here!” He pointed at Liana.

Uwe’s blushing cheeks distracted Cuculaiin. “Why is your face all red?” 

“Never you mind!” he snapped. “Phanuel’s in meltdown looking for her!” He took a step towards Liana and she drew back. “Your brother has a cure in Las,” he said, holding his hand out.

“Phan is her brother?” Salem and Scy‘s arrival heralded his question. 

“You would have made a lousy Quartz,” Tundra commented, wry.

“I make a lousy Fluorite too,” he shot back, grinning. “How come she’s here?”

Aina’s blush was answer enough, although it also threw up more questions that Salem didn’t think were appropriate to ask.

“Phanuel has tried everything. Why can’t you all respect my choices?” Liana said in a weak, yet petulant, tone.

“Because when you love someone you kinda want them not to die,” Salem said, paraphrasing Tundra the day before.

She blinked.

“Liana, Phanuel added a hunt for the sanjeevani flower –”

“No one has ever brought one back,” Aina interrupted. “Liana, I have a potion that will guarantee you’ll change with none of their flaws. You’ll be as perfect as you are now, but healthy again.”

The three argued: Uwe trying to convince Liana Phanuel had a cure, and Aina trying to get her lover to take the potion to become a vampiric creature. Caught in the middle were Liana’s pitiful refusals. She wanted to stay in the castle with Aina and death.

“Um, there was a bunch of people who came back with those flowers.” Cu’s voice was quiet, but his words had impact where Uwe’s failed.

“Truly?” Liana seemed to perk up, her cheeks became flushed, though sweat still dotted her brow. “I’m sorry, Aina, I know you went to a lot of trouble to make this potion for me, but I have never wished to be an aufhocker.”

“I know,” Aina replied. “It was the only thing I could come up with. If Phanuel has a potion to make you better, take it.”

“Will you come with me? I don’t want to be alone.” She held her hand out for the other woman, who hesitated and screwed her face up in concentration. There was a quiet sense of achievement when she took hold of Liana’s hand as the two women helped each other along the hallway and down the stairs.

Uwe and the Acolytes followed close behind with him hissing at them in a low tone, “You are in so much trouble when we get back to Las.”

“I don’t think so,” Scyanatha replied in a normal volume. “Phanuel and Culvers sent us out here, so if anyone is in trouble I would expect it to be you for concealing your sister’s intentions.”

Uwe mouthed the air for a moment and then his jaw snapped shut on whatever he was about to say as the three men chuckled at Scy’s effectiveness.

“She’s better than garlic,” Salem quipped.

 

Escorting Liana and Aina to Phanuel’s lab, Scy knew they did the right thing when they took in the relief on Phanuel’s face.

“How can I ever thank you?” he said, eyes on Liana as she settled into a chair.

“Kissy kissy, elfy sweetheart?” Salem shot out with a grin; if Imogen thought making him say those silly words and trying to get a kiss from the High Elders was a forfeit, she needed to try harder!

“What?” Phanuel wasn’t the only one confused.

Uwe’s face turned red even as he turned away from them all and whispered something in a stern voice to his sister.

“Come on, pucker up.” Salem tapped his cheek and Scy tittered with amusement.

Grateful, bemused and just plain not feeling himself, Phanuel complied with the request and pressed his lips to Salem’s cheek. “You are an odd man,” he said, rolling his eyes and going back to the more important task of helping his sister.

“I’ll second that,” Tundra said as they left the lab. “I’ll go report our success to Culvers.”

“I’ll come with you,” Salem said, earning him a curious look. “Two out of three is okay, but I’m going for the full house.”

“I’ll check on my friend,” Cuculaiin mumbled. He enjoyed working with Tundra, but didn’t know how to take the other man. His friend Jenshi would find the story about him kissing Phanuel hilarious, so he wanted to tell him as soon as possible.

“And I’m off to the infirmary,” Scy said, returning to her original plan. “I might as well make myself useful, and I’m sure it’s where Seth will end up when he returns. A whole day has passed since he left, he cannot possibly be returning uninjured.”

Tundra patted her shoulder in sympathy. “Half-bloods are tougher than we look. Seth will be fine, you’ll see.”

Scy knew this was true, having firsthand experience, but her husband was foolhardy in dangerous situations; launching into things and thinking about consequences after. Still, Seth’s resilience and determination often surprised her. He wouldn’t be Culvers’s second if he weren’t capable. She almost wished she could go back to the days when she didn’t care for any lover, so she could avoid this gut wrenching feeling, but then the thought of never loving Seth was an even worse one. “Sometimes I think the fae are the weaker species,” she commented thoughtfully, bidding everyone good day.

 


End file.
